


it's all good

by wawaicedtea



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Burn, Trans Michael Mell, but its not the central focus, but then they end up helping each other its chill, but there will be a warning for that tbh so you can skip it if you want!, but those will also have warnings if you want to skip them, expensive headphones, im just not tagging them, most of the other characters show up too, there's like remnants of jeremy/michael in there but its not end game, they both have issues dealing with what happened junior year that they have to deal with separately, warning for mentions and discussions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-29 17:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11446086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wawaicedtea/pseuds/wawaicedtea
Summary: Michael and Rich struggle to rebuild old relationships and deal with what happened their junior year. Luckily, they figure it out together.(Previously titled "Expensive Headphones")





	1. michael in the bathroom (again)

“Feel's like you're missing a part of yourself, doesn’t it?” says Rich, hearing his bedside neighbor stir. He can’t exactly look over, the full body cast and bandages keeping him confined to the same position he’s been in for weeks now. Still, he hears Jeremy, who had moved into the hospital room a few nights ago, groan through a headache that felt all too familiar to Rich.

“Hurts like a motherfucker, too,” he added sympathetically. Then, turning his head as much as he could, said, “Be honest. What are they saying about me at school?” 

Jeremy’s silence is enough of an answer. And expected. Granted, he’d gotten way more people sending cards and flowers and stuffed animals than he expected, but it had to be people’s guilt, he knew. He set his best friend’s house on fire. Once the initial wave of pity was over, he was sure kids at school had to have been calling him all kinds of things. Crazy, for starters.

“Sorry,” he heard Jeremy mumble. 

“Sorry? I’m finally free from that shiny, happy hive mind! When I get outta here, the ladies are gonna learn to love the real Richard Goranski.” He leaned his head back against his pillow, picturing the scene there in his mind: Rich in the school hallway, wearing sleeves again, surrounded by girls admiring his burn scars. Brooke twirling a lock of blonde hair as she gabbed about how cute his lisp was, Jenna already tweeting about how Middleborough’s former bad boy had the hottest sensitive side, Jake swooning over how badass he was, Chloe tal--

Oh, shit. “And the dudes,” Rich said slowly, realization coming to him. “Oh my God. I’m totally bi.” 

“Your squip’s gone? But how?” asked Jeremy. 

“Ask your buddy. Anti-social headphones kid?” Rich instinctively tried gesturing with his right arm a pair of headphones before remembering that, uh, right, he can’t move. Full body cast. He actually remembered the kid’s name: Michael. He was Jeremy’s best friend, and their friendship was something Rich always felt weirdly jealous of. They were almost never apart at school, and even when he was popular, Rich didn’t have someone in his life he was that close to. “He’s been by, like, a ton, by the way. What is he-- your boyfriend? No judgement. Just curious. Totally bi now.” 

Speak of the red-hoodied devil, and he shall appear. For the first time since he was admitted to the hospital, Rich saw Michael looking… not broken. Seriously, every time he visited Jeremy, it was like the poor kid was dead or something. Whenever he could sneak a glance, he saw about a million emotions painted on Michael’s face-- sometimes, he just looked sad. Heart broken. Other times, he looked pissed at hell. Almost punched Jeremy’s sleeping face while muttering something about how if he never woke up, Michael would never get his apology. Sometimes, more complicated feelings showed. Guilt. Fear. Other times, he had a look so blank and empty, it was scarier than when he was actually pissed. 

Now, though? He looked… God, so relieved. Like the sun was shining out of Jeremy’s ass, and Michael had been waiting months to finally soak up some vitamin D. 

Eugh. 

“I’m sure some special someone will be lucky to have you, Rich,” said Michael as he walked in, those white headphones hanging off his neck. He sounded vaguely sarcastic, but Rich immediately pushed that thought from his head. Geez, he’s gotta learn people aren’t always going to be against him. If he still had his Squip, it’d have told him exactly what tone Michael meant, but without it… guesswork. He decided to take it as a compliment. 

“You think?” There’s isn’t laughter that follows, and for a second, Rich thought he was right. Michael was being genuine. He was a nice guy, after all. A real upbeat kind of fellow. He seemed like he’d be a great friend. Maybe after all of this, he and Michael and Jeremy could all be friends. Bonded by some crazy traumatic shit that leads towards a beautiful friendship with people who actually gave a shit about him--

Michael pulls the hospital curtain around Rich, shutting him out of the conversation with Jeremy.

\--

Rich is finally released from the hospital after 5 months in intensive care, and he spends the summer after junior year in rehab, getting skin grafts after skin grafts and learning how to live life without a computer in his brain telling him what to do every day. Sometimes he could feel something there, a whisper in the back of his head, but overall, he was alone in his head. 

Coming back to Middleborough for his senior year scared him shitless. With everything going on, he’d avoided all his old friends, not wanting them to see him in casts and bandages and peeing in a bedpan. When he’d first gotten in the hospital, some people had visited, but he’d cursed out Jake the first time that he hadn’t returned since. He was sure Jenna had spread some shit about how Rich had fallen off the wagon, was a complete psychopath that made his best friend homeless and then told him to fuck off. To see them at school again… 

Fuck that. Not to be cliche, but he was Rich Goranski. He wasn’t about to hide behind sweaters and concealer and carefully avoided words just to please people. Pleasing people was how he ended up fucked up earlier. He was going to be Richard Goranski, and anyone who was afraid of him, or grossed out by him, or whatever… they could screw off.

He walked through the double doors of Middleborough High, his head held high. He walked confidently through the halls, not bothering to look at anyone else in the hall-- if they were staring, he didn’t notice. The stairwell came up ahead, and Rich turned the corner, not sure whether he was expecting his old friends to still be hanging there like they had the year before. Not sure if he’d be upset if they weren’t. Or if they were. Not sure what he was expecting, to be honest.

Not this. 

Jake was leaning against the railing, Christine and Jeremy holding hands across from him. Chloe and Brooke were sitting on the steps, taking “First Day of Senior Year” selfies, Jenna still missing in action. They were all just chatting together, excited about who shared homerooms and what classes they were expecting to take. They almost didn’t notice Rich when he walked up. 

“Oh my God!” Brooke looked away from the phone in her hand at Rich. She brushed hair out of her face as the rest of the gang turned towards the doorway. “Rich!” 

“The one and only,” he replied confidently, though he wasn’t sure what to make of the silence coming from Jake. 

“How are you doing?” asked Chloe in this stupid pitying voice. Her eyebrows furrowed. She looked so exaggeratingly worried, it was almost funny. 

“Ready to rock this year, that’s for sure.” Rich dropped his bag by the staircase, sitting on the steps below Chloe and Brooke.

“You sound different.” Rich turned, looking at Jake, who had this weird, sort of shy smile. Polite, he guesses. “Is that-- uh, like a-- because of the--”

“No. I’ve always talked like this.” Rich made sure he sounded as sure as possible, making sure it was clear he didn’t want to discuss his lisp any further. Luckily, no one pressed him. 

The bell rang, and the gang split their ways to their assigned home rooms. They all silently agreed to meet up at lunch. Rich included. Thankfully.

\--

The rest of the day proved to be uneventful. Rich went to his classes and, for the most part, everyone seemed to be trying too hard to act like everything was normal and okay to make things weird. The second something came up about his scars or his lisp or the year before, Rich just answered vaguely, and everyone got the hint to just leave it alone. 

In a way, he almost wished there’d been a bigger deal made about his return, but he very quickly realized that that was a fucked up thing to ask for, and he shoved that thought away quickly. 

By the time the end of the day came, Rich had felt secure in his friends. Even Jake, who had been walking on eggshells until lunch, had softened up, and gave Rich a hug and they parted ways. All his friends had left already-- besides Jake, Brooke and Chloe had gotten a ride with Jenna to the mall after school. Celebratory shopping or some shit Rich denied an invitation to. Jeremy and Christine, who he guessed he was friends with, left together, going to do who knows what. It would still be a while before his older brother could come by and grab him (Rich still wasn’t too steady behind the wheel yet) and he just had to loiter on school grounds until he got the “here” text. Which was fine. Rich had learned to like being alone while he was in the hospital. He almost found comfort in it now, and walking through nearly empty school hallways had an edge of rebellion that was comforting too.

He ducked into the first floor men’s room, but stopped at the door as he heard sniffling sounds. Who the fuck cries in a school bathroom? Seriously, people went to the bathroom to piss and shit and leave. He thought this kind of thing only happened in the girl’s room.

The sniffling stopped as the door closed, the person in the stall clearly having heard Rich enter. “Uh,” Rich started cautiously, walking towards the urinal, but glancing at the stalls out of curiosity. It was probably some loser freshman who got overwhelmed or something. Still, now that he wasn’t being told to be an asshole, he might as well try to be nice. He continued in what he hoped was a nice tone, “I’ll leave in just a second, dude, don’t worry-- Oh, shit. Michael?” The name fell from his lips before he could stop them, but he recognized the lettering on the backpack on the floor as his own handwriting. And he’d only tried that “riends” shit on one person, almost a year ago.

A shaky breath came from the stall, and then, “Can you go?”

Geez. He sounded rough. Rich had heard the same shakiness in the hospital, when Michael would visit Jeremy. Jeremy before he woke up, and Michael, thinking Rich was asleep, would babble in this pathetic voice.

“Uh, sure, man… You doing okay?” Obviously not, Richard, you moron. 

Another shaky breath from behind the stall door. 

His urge to piss had suddenly left him, but for some reason, Rich couldn’t just leave. He should have. It really wasn’t any of his fucking business, and staying could have made things worse. But he found himself walking up to the stall door, knocking lightly. “You should probably go home, dude. It’s kind of sick to just hang around somewhere that smells this bad.”

Silence, what sounded like a sob smothered by a hand, and a “Please just go” followed. 

Rich looked down underneath the stall door, where he saw a pair of white sneakers and the ends of a hoodie where Michael sat. His feet were trembling. Actually, it looked like his whole body was shaking. Fuck. Shit. Didn’t seem like Michael was just crying any more. 

“Hey.” Rich knocked lightly on the door again. “Do you need me to call someone or something? Or…” He began leaning against the door, then quickly realized it wasn’t even locked when the door swung open, hitting Michael’s body on the floor. 

He was startled and looked up at Rich with wide eyes. There was a flash of embarrassment on his face, but mostly it looked like he was just trying hard not to keep crying. Michael wiped his face with his hoodie sleeve, looking away from Rich as he bent down to Michael’s level. Rich wasn’t really sure what to do in this kind of situation; clearly Michael was having some kind of breakdown or something, but Rich had no experience with anything like that. When stuff got stressful, he usually just locked it away and refused to acknowledge it. Instead of freak out over it, he would always just distract himself.

“Thought it was kind of fucked up how they pulled out the good shit today at lunch,” said Rich. He sat down next to Michael, staring at the stall wall in front of them. “I mean, first day of school, and they got pizza and tater tots on the menu. You know by tomorrow we’ll be back to mystery meat and spoiled milk. You think it’s because they want to make a good impression on the freshman or something? Because the way I see it, it’s pretty fucking cruel. They let you have a taste of what a good, satisfying school lunch would be, and then they don’t do again for the rest of the year. I mean, seriously. It’s like teachers have to take a medieval torture class in teaching school before they can get their, like, teaching degrees or whatever.” Rich kept up talking about nonsense until he saw through his peripheral that the boy beside him had stopped shaking. They sat in silence for a moment until Michael caught up with his breathing, seemingly calm now, though the red across his cheeks revealed his feeling of shame.

“You good, man?” Rich asked finally. Michael refused to look him in the eye still, but that was understandable. 

“Uh, yeah.” He laughed dryly, nervously. His hand rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

Rich shrugged. “Don’t mention it.” An awkward moment, and then Rich started to get up. He helped Michael up to his feet and handed him his bag, though the tension increased as Rich saw his handwriting on the bag. It wasn’t completely bizarre to still have the same backpack from last year, but something tells Rich that there’s more there. Michael walking around with “friends” on his back while Jeremy walks around holding his girlfriend’s hand and wearing a clean, not-vandalized backpack seems poetic somehow. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he sees his brother texted a final “get your ass over here before I leave you” message. “Shit,” Rich said under his breath, stepping out of the stall. “I gotta go. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, nodding and fingering the headphones around his neck. A smile formed, but Rich wasn’t so convinced of its genuinity.

“Cool.” Rich stepped aside, letting Michael leave through the bathroom doors and head down the hallway to wherever. They vaguely waved at each other before going down opposite hallways, and Rich let himself worry about how that kid was supposed to get home before he slides into his brother’s car and prepares to go home.


	2. playing hooky

Michael walked home, headphones snug around his ears, Billy Joel blasting as loud as he could stand it. He could feel his face was still burning up, even ten minutes after he’d already left the school. It was just his luck. He’d been able to keep it together the whole day until after the bell rang, and he knew he wouldn’t be driving Jeremy home. They didn’t even have to communicate it, Michael just knew that Jeremy would be going home with Christine. You know, the way couples do.

Things had been tense all summer since Jeremy got released from the hospital. It was definitely better than before when he had the squip and ignored Michael’s existence, but after the play happened, the two of them never got around to actually talking about what happened. They just agreed it was terrible and tried to go back to life from before.

That was hard to do, though. Before the squip, the two of them basically lived at each other’s houses, spending hours and hours playing videos games and watching shitty movies and eating junk. They rarely had a weekend where one of them didn’t sleep over at the other’s place. After all, for twelve years, they’d pretty much only had each other, and for Michael, that was perfect.

But now there was Christine. The worst part is Michael couldn’t even hate her. She was suspiciously perfect. Smart, funny, sweet as hell… though they weren’t really close, she’d been a great person to vent to when Jeremy was in the hospital. They’d have lunch together on days where they both visited, and she was always so positive and cheerful. He couldn’t even hate her. The second you were in the room with Christine, you had to smile. 

That didn’t change the fact that Michael was jealous, though. He’d loved Jeremy since he they were pre-school, and he’d been in love with Jeremy since… well, actually, Michael couldn’t even pinpoint when exactly he realized he was in love with Jeremy. It’d happened sometime in middle school, when he woke up one day and all he could think about was his best friend’s blue eyes, his lanky limbs, his dorky laugh whenever they stayed up watching Friends reruns.

Michael arrived at his door step. He cursed under his breath as he realized that he’d driven to school, and left it stranded in the senior parking lot while trying to get away. Because, of course he did. He’s Michael. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s being a dumbass. 

\--

He’d ended up having to walk the twenty minutes from his house to school the next morning and hope his car hadn’t been vandalized or something. Not that it would have, to be honest. After Michael had saved everyone last year from the play, he didn’t get bothered by the popular kids at school anymore. While most people didn’t know the exact circumstances, they knew that something went down at last year’s play, and Michael had somehow saved everyone. The cast of that play (besides Jeremy) had come out with minor bumps and scratches, and came out with an inexplicable bond. Suddenly, Christine was just as popular as Jenna and Chloe and Brooke, and Jeremy, though he was back to looking like the same old loser he had been before, was now at the same ranks as Jake and Rich. Michael guessed he was there, too, considering more people talked to him and were nice to him. The play cast would invite him to their lunch table and walk with him to classes they had together, but whether it was because of his actions at the play or Jeremy, he didn’t know. After everything, they probably were just including Michael to be nice, to show Jeremy they would be inclusive of his old best friend.

Current best friend. 

Still, he felt distant from the others. They were nice and funny and everything, but it wasn’t the same as the good old days when Michael had his best friend Jeremy, and Jeremy had him. If three was a crowd, seven was enough to make him have a panic attack in the bathroom after school.

Michael sighed, reaching the school parking lot. He couldn’t believe Rich had to see him like that. Wasn’t it common sense for people to leave you alone when you’re clearly bugging out?

His car was still there. Non-vandalized. Michael wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He walked right past his own car and into the hall, expecting to loiter for the few minutes before the warning bell instead of stand awkwardly with the group at the stair well. He didn’t try yesterday, not sure he’d be accepted, but Christine asked him later that day why he hadn’t been there. He didn’t tell her why. Just promised to try and make it the next day, although now he found himself not wanting to go again.

“Hey!” A hand clamped down on Michael’s shoulder, and he turned to see Rich come up behind him. “How you doing, man?”

A sheepish smile crept on Michael’s face. “Better.” He decided on. 

“That’s good to hear,” said Rich, smiling way too much for it being 7 in the morning. “Still got ten before the bell. You heading to the stairs?”

Michael must have made a face.

“Yeah, me either.” Rich wrapped an arm around Michael’s shoulder and turned the two around, heading towards the entrance of the school. “I have a feeling you’d rather fuck off campus right now, too, right?”

“It’s the second day of school, and you want to skip class?” asked Michael, raising an eyebrow. 

“So that’s a no?” 

“No to what?”

“To getting out of here. Listen, it’s fine, I get it. I was just going to head out t--”

“Yeah.” Michael nodded.

Rich furrowed a brow. “Yeah?”

Another nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.” He jerked his chin towards the door leading to the school parking lot. “I got my car. Let’s go before the administration says something.” 

Rich grinned wider, then led Michael towards the door faster. “Sounds like a plan, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter, but I wasn't really planning on having a set length for chapters. 
> 
> Feel free to post a comment, I have a couple things planned for this, and I'd love to see some feed back!!


	3. in the basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter!

Michael’s parents have been on a trip for a month, so they head there. At first, it feels kind of weird. Michael barely knows Rich, and he hasn’t had someone over his house before besides Jeremy. It feels weird on, like, seven different levels. Still, it’s too late now. Michael was already turning the key, Rich following behind him into his home.

“Uh, you want a drink or something?” Michael said as they passed the kitchen.

“What?” There was an edge to Rich’s voice. 

“Like… water? Or, uh, I think we have some juice. I probably have soda down in the basement.” 

The tension in Rich’s shoulders melted. “Oh. Let’s see what you’ve got down there, then.” 

That was sketchy as hell, but Michael didn’t ask. He opened the door to the basement, starting to walk down and turn on the lights for Rich. “It’s probably just some Dr. Pepper. I might have some Surge in the back, and--” He hesitated. 

“And?” Rich asked, sitting down on the couch in the middle of the room. 

“I usually keep Mountain Dew Red for Jeremy.” 

“Dr. Pepper, then.” Rich caught the can with two hands, cracking open the tab as Michael closed the fridge and sat down next to him. They sat on opposite sides of the couch for a moment, dwelling in the awkward silence between them. They’d almost gotten used to sitting in quiet back when Michael would visit Rich in the hospital. They would see each other, but there wasn’t much said between them. Michael was usually too much of a wreck, and Rich was in too much pain to give a shit until a little while before Jeremy woke up.

“So,” started Michael, staring down at his own can. “Any reason you wanted to ditch today?”

“I knew the cafeteria was going to have shit food today,” said Rich, laughing dryly. He could see Michael tense up, the topic of cafeteria food a little too close to the topic of Rich’s rant yesterday when Michael was having a panic attack. 

“Right. Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, I guess that’s fai--”

“I didn’t want to see Jake.” Michael looked up at Rich expectantly. “It was weird seeing him yesterday. He’s been really cool about everything, but, God, I fucking set his house on fire. I set his house on fire. He shouldn’t be acting so nice to me.” Rich shook his head, hearing a nagging voice in the back of his brain. “I don’t mean to bag this all on you, man, but it’s real shit having to see his face and know you can never say ‘sorry’ enough times to make up for the fact that you made your best friend homeless. He fucking broke his legs, like if it wasn’t bad enough. How the fuck do you forgive someone for burning down your house and making you break your legs all in one night? And right after your parents end up fugitives-- I mean, it’s all so fucked up.”

Michael stayed silent, just staring at Rich. His instinct was to shout some “what are you looking at, four-eyed fucker?” but he’d luckily learned to bite back those urges during rehab. 

Rich started to stand up. “I should go.” 

“Huh?” Like he was in a trance, Michael seemed to snap awake. 

“I shouldn’t have said that shit. You’ve clearly been dealing with your own fucking issues, or whatever,” Rich mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets and starting to turn towards the door. 

“Rich, wait.” Michael stood up as Rich turned around again to face him. There was a moment of hesitation. “You might as well commit to the whole truancy thing.” He offered an encouraging smile, though it was the slightest bit forced. “I’ve got video games if that’ll help.”

Another moment of hesitation, this time from Rich. “You’re on, Mike.”

\--

They’d managed to play for three hours nonstop, making the occasional comment or joke about the game, but not actually conversing. After a while, it stopped feeling so tense and uncomfortable. It was still unfamiliar, a different situation than either was used to, but they stopped having so many pauses in between their casual gaming banter. 

After three hours, they’d decided to take a much needed break to rest their eyes and fuel up on snacks Michael had had in his fridge. They had been working on their second bag of Doritos, idly chatting about the latest Game of Thrones episode, when Michael’s phone started ringing. It was still school hours, and it was nearly impossible that his parents had called, but Michael excused himself from the basement as he answered the call, wiping his cheesy fingers on his jeans as he went up the stairs. 

Rich probably shouldn’t have started snooping. It became pretty clear by the second hour that the basement doubled as Michael’s bedroom. It was cluttered with video games, vinyls, cassette tapes, and dusty polaroids along the walls. The couch was covered in at least six different blankets, obviously the place Michael would fall asleep after a night of playing games, pillows strewn along the floor. For a basement, it felt weirdly intimate. 

Still, he snooped.

There was one bookcase on the right wall, with a couple of old comic books from the 70’s, DVDs, and a few photo albums. It wouldn’t have been real snooping if Rich hadn’t grabbed an album and cracked it open to the first page. 

There were just pictures of Michael and Jeremy. Geez. Rich knew that they’d been friends for years, but the first few pictures had the two as toddlers dressed in Halloween costumes. Cute shit. They’d been Winnie the Pooh and Piglet, Jeremy smiling a toothy grin and Michael next to him, pouting. The next picture had them at their “First Day of Kindergarten”, the two of them standing next to each other in their elementary school uniforms. Rich thought for a moment how weird it was, seeing Michael as a little kid with pig tails and Mary-Jane socks. It didn’t even look like him. He flipped through the pages, past field trips and birthday parties, to freshman year. 

Eugh. Okay, to be fair, no one looks great freshman year. But the first picture had Jeremy and Michael at a fair or something, greasy and mid-puberty. Jeremy still had braces, and his acne cluttered along his jawline, back before his face matured. Michael was chubby-cheeked-- er, chubbier-cheeked. He looked softer, rosier. It was back before Jeremy had shot up six feet into the air, so for a moment in time, preserved in a photography, Michael and Jeremy were the same height. And then the next picture, which had them sitting in front of Middleborough High’s steps, looking even greasier--

“Hey,” Rich heard Michael’s voice behind him. “Can you, maybe, not do that?” He didn’t sound upset, but Rich closed the album quickly, stuffing it back in its place and turning around, his face burning slightly. 

“Sorry, man, that was really uncool of me, it won--”

“It’s fine.” Michael shrugged. “Just, you know, don’t go looking through my stuff when I’m not here.”

“Right.” The awkward silence started creeping back, and Rich tried squashing it before it could make its return. “So, was that your ‘rents? They realize you ditch or something?”

“It was Jeremy, actually.” Michael sat back down on the couch. Well, more like slumped back down. “He wanted to make sure I wasn’t sick.”

“Are you?” Rich joined him on the opposite side. 

“We’ve been trying to be more honest with each other.” Michael pursed his lips. “But I couldn’t exactly tell him that I’m avoiding seeing him and Christine, so… yeah. I guess I’m sick.”

Rich laughed under his breath. “So, you’re avoiding Jeremy and Christine?”

Michael turned, trying to hide the red creeping up on his face. “You’re avoiding Jake.”

“Touche.”

“It’s not that I hate them or anything--”

“Yeah, no, of course.”

“I mean, Jeremy’s my best friend, and Christine’s great--”

“Sure.”

“They’re both great, I love them. They’re happy together--”

“Uh huh.” 

“It’s just hard to see them, you know--”

“Right.”

“Being all couple-y--”

“I knew it!” Rich shot up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Michael frowned. “Knew what?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“You and Jeremy, duh,” Rich said. 

“What are you talking about? We’re not… He’s with--”

“Yeah, I know. I’m talking about you, dude. And you and Jeremy.” 

Michael shook his head. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here, but--”

“You’re into Jeremy.” When he saw Michael turn red, Rich began to grin even wider. “Holy shit, dude. Now it makes sense why you were so bummed out yesterday. You’ve got it bad for Heere!”

“He’s my best friend,” Michael mumbled, trying to defend himself, though he knew it wouldn’t work. “Of course I’m upset I don’t get to see him so much anymore.”

“Nah, man. You’re jealous of him and Christine. Just admit it.”

“Fine. I’m a little jealous.” 

“Aw, c’mon. You’ve got to be more than a little jealous--”

“It’s not just that,” Michael interrupted, the redness of his cheeks shifting from embarrassment to frustration. 

“So what is it?” prompted Rich.

Michael hesitated again. He’d never really let himself dwell on why he was so upset at Jeremy, to be honest. He blamed his relationship with Christine and left it at that, not wanting to acknowledge, even to himself, why he was really hurt. “He never said sorry,” he finally admitted.

“You’re gonna have to explain a little more than that, Mike,” said Rich. 

Michael looked up from the floor. He and Rich finally holding contact for what seemed like the first time that day. Neither of them had realized how much they’d been avoiding looking at each other until then. “It’s kind of a long story.” 

“Good thing we’re skipping eight hours of a school day, then.”

Michael shifted in his seat. “Jeremy and I had a pretty bad argument at Jake’s party, and things were said. The entire time he had the squip, it was like he was a completely different person, and I didn’t exist. A-And I know the squip made him do all that, but… he never said sorry. Even now that the squip’s gone and he physically can say sorry, he still hasn’t. I guess it kind of hurts not having that closure or whatever.” He shrugged. “I can’t exactly ask for it, either. He’s trying so hard to put the whole thing behind him, and I know I should, too, but…” 

“Dude. You seriously need to talk to Jeremy and tell him all that shit,” said Rich, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You know, that’s real rich coming from you, considering you won’t talk to Jake.”

“Yeah? That’s real, what now? Rich?” 

The moment of silence between the two as the joke landed was, for once, not tense. It was quick and painless before Rich and Michael burst out into laughter, the stress of the topic beforehand melting away with the pun.

They went back to their video games.


	4. it's not all good, but i'll pretend it is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for suicide/ suicide mention. It's not graphic but it's there!

A month passed into their senior year, and things hadn’t gotten much easier. Michael and Rich still felt emotionally distant from the group, though they did their best to be involved and friendly.It was nice, though, having someone there who understood. If either of them got overwhelmed, it was easy to shoot the other a look and excuse themselves away. They’d end up sitting in Michael’s car in an abandoned parking lot getting high and talking, or blasting music until they couldn’t remember why they were upset. 

For Michael, it usually had to do with Jeremy. His chest panged every time he saw Jeremy, nostalgia for the days when it was just the two of them hitting him right in his ribs. And seeing Jeremy with Christine? Even worse, only the guilt of realizing how unfair it was to be jealous of the happy couple hurt even more. 

Rich tugged on Michael’s shoulder as they sat at the lunch table, Chloe and Jenna arguing about some celebrity gossip neither boy particularly cared about. Across them was Christine and Jeremy, holding hands above the table and talking in inside jokes about the last movie they saw or something. If Michael was a better person, he would have thought it was cute. He exchanged a silent, knowing look with Rich, who already had an excuse rolling off his tongue. 

“Hey, Mikey, I think I left my english book in your car this morning,” Rich said, and Michael, getting the hint, started to get up from his seat.

“You probably left it on the seat again,” said Michael, waiting for Rich to get up too. Once they were sure their excuse was heard, they both briefly waved at the group at lunch before walking towards the parking lot. 

Once they were out of earshot and into the hall, Michael smiled gratefully at Rich. “Thanks.” 

Rich shrugged. “No biggie, man.” And it wasn’t. He had felt Michael tense up next to him the entire time they sat at lunch, and Michael had bailed him out a ton of times whenever Jake would casually bring up the fire or squips (something he did weirdly often.) It was only fair for Rich to have Michael’s back, too, right? “I didn’t actually leave my book in your car, though.” 

They stopped in front of the doors to the parking lot. “I figured,” said Michael. He slid down the wall, sitting down on the hallway floor. 

Rich joined him on the floor, stretching out his legs. Thankful, too. Sitting and talking with Michael was way more comfortable than hiding out in the heat of the school parking lot. Plus, it didn’t hurt that when they sat next to each other, the height difference between the two wasn’t as obvious. It wasn’t like he was insecure of his height, but sometimes looking up to talk with his much taller friends gave him a headache. “You talk to him, yet?” Rich asked, though he knew the answer.

Michael shook his head. “I’m not really sure what I’d say, at this point.” 

“How about, ‘Hey, Jer, I’ve loved you for years and want to suck your dick, but you broke my heart and now, if I ever got to suck your dick, it’d be with way less eagerness’?” 

Michael gave him a blank stare before laughing dryly. “A good first draft, but maybe I should focus less on his dick and more on the fact that we just haven’t talked about anything that happened that month.”

“So, talk about it,” Rich said, as if it were the easiest thing on the planet. He crossed his arms. “Seriously. Ask him to hang out like you used to, and then, just, fucking talk about it. He probably doesn’t even know just how bad it was. I mean, the squip controls everything, Mikey. It convinces you to do shit you wouldn’t have ever done if there wasn’t a voice in your head telling you it’ll fix everything shitty in your life. He probably doesn’t know just how bad he was-- and he definitely doesn’t know about Jake’s party, I bet--”

“I’m not telling him about Jake’s party,” cut Michael, his voice momentarily shooting up and cracking with frustration. He took a breath to steady himself and get his voice back in control before continuing, staring straight ahead. “I can’t tell him about Jake’s party.”

“Why not?” asked Rich gently. 

“What good would it do? He’d just feel bad and end up talking about how horrible he is, and that’s not what he needs.” 

“You really think keeping that night to yourself is what you need?” 

Michael turned to face Rich, who had… sympathy? Something gentle, soothing in his eyes. “That doesn’t matter.” 

“Bullshit.” The softness didn’t leave Rich’s eyes. 

“It’s not…” They held eye contact, until Michael felt a sudden surge of embarrassment. At what? He didn’t know, but he looked down at his hands in his lap. “I’m not keeping it to myself. I told you about it, didn’t I?”

“I’m not the one you have to tell, though.” Rich shoved Michael’s shoulder lightly, prompting him to look back up at Rich. “Look, trust me. Once you tell Jeremy about it, you’ll have closure and shit. It’ll help, I know.”

Michael sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “You’re saying it like it’s so easy. How am I supposed to tell my best friend that he almost made me-- I mean, he was possessed by a supercomputer! It’s going to seem like I’m blaming him for something I did.”

“Almost did,” Rich corrected. “You almost killed yourself. Emphasis on the ‘almost’, buddy.”

Michael felt another wave of embarrassment. “Right.”

The bell for the end of lunch rang just then, and the two shared a glance for what was probably longer than necessary. Michael was the first to look away, his ears turning a slight red, as Rich stood up from the floor. He held out his hand for Michael, he grabbed it as he was pulled up from the floor. The hallway began to feel with students leaving lunch, and the two shared a knowing look again before heading to class.

\--

Nowadays, Rich usually caught a ride with Michael home. They lived pretty close together, and after Rich had hinted enough about his home life, they fell into a habit of hanging out at Michael’s basement until Rich had to go home. That day, though, Rich felt a tap on his shoulder as he waiting in the parking lot for Michael to get out of class.

Rich looked up from his phone, where he’d been playing some mindless game. He tried not to show how unsettled he was to see it was Jake, his classic All American Smile plastered on his face. Somehow, he never looked ingenuine. “Need a ride home, buddy?” asked Jake, holding up car keys. 

“You don’t have some club to do after school?” asked Rich, genuinely surprised. Rich had only gotten a ride home from Jake a few times in the year they were best friends, mostly because getting a ride from Jake meant waiting until he was done with lacrosse, or key club, or national honor society, or archery, or-- well, you get the idea. It was fun at first to watch Jake sweat out on a field, or listen outside the door as he rehearsed his lines for drama, but the squip would always remind me that there were better times to spend his time than wait around, and that waiting around like that made him look like a lost puppy. 

“Nah,” said Jake, snapping Rich out of his train of thought. “Practice was cancelled. I’ve got no reason to hang out here, so I was just going to head straight home.”

Home? “Oh, cool,” said Rich. He furrowed his brows, trying to decide if he really wanted to ask. And, because he’s a dumbass, he does. “So… home?”

Jake smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah-- kind of. I’ve been living with my grandparents for, like, a year. I guess they’re ‘home’ now.”

Well, if that wasn’t just the saddest shit he’d heard all week. “Cool, cool. And, uh, your parents?”

“Still on the run, staying with some family down in Argentina.” Jake shrugged, as if it was no big deal that his parents were in another continent and his house burned down and he was living with his grandparents who Rich had never even heard about and honestly assumed had been all dead because Jake had literally never mentioned them ever-- 

“So,” said Jake, snapping Rich out of his head once again. “How about that ride?” 

Rich thought it over, knowing that if he texted Michael that he’d gotten a ride from Jake, he’d be chill with it. Hell, he’d probably be thrilled, thinking Rich and Jake could finally get back to being friends like they used to. And Rich wanted that, fuck, did he want to go back to his six foot two best friend and talking about who they’d fucked that week, who they’d fuck next week, drinking away their daddy issues and being bros. 

But then Michael walked through the doors, waving at Rich as he approached the two. And, somehow, it felt safer to just stick with Michael. 

“I’ve actually got a ride,” said Rich, gesturing at Michael. Jake turned around to look, and offered a civil smile to Michael as he walked up to the pair. “Sorry, man.”

Jake shrugged again. Code for: it’s not all good, but I’ll pretend it is. “It’s all good, Rich. See you guys tomorrow, right?”

Rich nodded. “Right.”

Michael raised his eyebrows as Jake walked away, Rich following his silhouette as he got into his fancy, rich-guy car. 

“You okay, Rich?”

“Hmm?” Rich blinked, looking at Michael, who still had his stupid eyebrows raised, a smirk on his stupid face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said Rich, rolling his eyes. “We going, or what? I’ve been waiting for this classic horror movie marathon all day.” 

Michael’s smirk shifted to a real, non-assuming smile. “Yeah, hop in,” he said, pressing the alarm for his car and walking over to the driver’s seat.

Rich gave a final look at Jake’s car, but the spot where his convertible had been was already vacant.


	5. i get it. i get it. i get it. i get it. i get it.

“So, how was your talk with Jake?”

Rich looked out the car window, rolling his eyes, though he knew Michael wouldn’t have been able to see. “Dude, we had small talk for, like, two minutes before you showed up. I wouldn’t call that a ‘talk.’”

“But how was it? I mean, how do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” Rich shrugged. “Didn’t feel any different than any other time we’ve talked this year.”

“So, still really awkward?” asked Michael.

“The most.” Rich sighed, turning away from the car window. The fast flashes of cars driving beside them was making him nauseous. And, honestly, so was the little nagging voice in his head that was starting to take shape. Why didn’t he catch that ride with Jake? It would have been the perfect opportunity to catch up like old times, probably the only opportunity he’ll get this century. So why didn’t he take it? What was wrong with him? He was always doing stupid shit like this, making impulse decisions that ended up biting him in the ass later. Maybe this was, like, a sign from God that he should just let go his old friendship with Jake, because if he couldn’t even have the balls to fix things when the opportunity strikes, how the hell is she supposed to--

“Rich. You okay?” Michael had been parked out front of his house for a while, but Rich had this spaced-out look he always got when he was thinking too much. 

The question snapped Rich out of his trance. He made a mental note to stop being so fucking space-y all the time. “Just peachy, Mike.”

Michael parked the car and turned off the engine, waiting a moment before getting out the driver’s seat. “If you say so, man.” 

Rich resisted the urge to mockingly chirp “if you say so, man” under his breath. The two strolled in through the front door, straight to Michael’s basement-slash-room, just like they did most days. It’d become a place of comfort, knowing that he had somewhere to go after school that wasn’t his own home, where his dad would just get drunk and be an asshole. Michael’s parents, when they were around (which wasn’t often), were super nice, the kind of sweet that Rich thought only existed in movies and tv shows. And Michael himself was good company. 

In the month or so since they’d started talking, the two had become pretty good friends. Really good friends. Sometimes Rich wondered if he was just a replacement for Jeremy, if maybe Michael only saw him as another constant in his life now that Jeremy was no longer in that role. Maybe the second he patched things up with Jeremy, he’d ditch Rich. And what would Rich do? Go back to Jake? Who was great and all, and Rich still cared for him, obviously, but it was so different. Rich had gotten pretty used to the feeling of comfort and warmth down in Michael’s bed room, with his messy desk and video games thrown around and mini-fridge of snacks that only someone who was high off their ass could eat. To go back to Jake, where you practically had to make an appointment six months in advance to go chill in his room, which was stiff and cold and always too clean to have a 17 year old believably living there, was just unappealing. 

Stepping into the basement now, Rich’s thoughts were confirmed. Even though Michael kept the AC a ungodly freezing temperatures, the room was… warm. Comfortable. Like if the room as alive, it’d give you a hug-- or some sappy shit like that. 

Michael plopped down on his bed, throwing off his shoes and reaching down briefly to pick up the stacks of movies he’d left at the foot of his bed earlier. “I feel like we should start with ‘The Creature from the Black Lagoon,’” he said, hanging upside down off the edge of his bed. His glasses started slipping off his face, and he pushed them up against the bridge of his nose as he read through the DVD titles. “Or I’ve got, like, six different Frankenstein movies here, if you wanna start with those. We’d obviously have to watch them in order.”

“Right, obviously,” said Rich, sitting down on the floor next to Michael’s upside down head. He leaned back against the bed frame, crossing his arms and trying not to shiver. “Dude, it’s fucking freezing in here.” 

Michael shifted himself so he was sitting atop his bed. “You’re kidding right? It’s the perfect temperature right now.”

“That’s because you’re wearing at least three layers right now,” said Rich, rolling his eyes. “Listen, I don’t mean to be a pussy, but my skin’s starting to crack from how cold it is, and it hurts like hell with my burns.”

“Yeah, fine,” said Michael, getting up from the bed. Rich sighed with relief as his eyes followed Michael, who walked over to the thermostat and brought the air down, immediately shedding off his red hoodie and throwing it over his desk chair as he walked back to the bed. “So, which one do we watch first?” he asked, holding an arm out to pass a DVD to Rich.

It was the first time Rich had ever seen Michael without a sweat shirt. Seriously, he’d gone to school with Michael for four years, and not once had he ever caught him without a long sleeve shirt. For a while, he expected there to be a reason for it. It wasn’t a secret that Michael dealt with some pretty shitty anxiety, and, not to generalize, but Rich just always assumed that he never showed his arms because of scars or something. 

But Michael’s arms were bare. And Rich hadn’t realized how much he’d been hoping for that until now.

Michael waved his other hand in front of Rich’s face, bringing him back to reality. “Hey, earth to Rich? Dude, seriously, are you okay? You’ve been doing that a lot today.”

Rich looked up from Michael’s arm, not even trying to control the emotion on his face. 

Which made Michael lean back, concern drawn over his. “Woah. Okay.” He slid off the bed and kneeled down next to Rich, tossing the DVDs to the side. “Horror movie marathon can wait for another time. What is going on?” 

Rich couldn’t stop staring, and it took him longer than appropriate to shrug. “I don’t know.”

Though his ears were starting to darken red, Michael kept eye contact. “Okay.”

The minutes of quiet between them were heavy. There wasn’t any actual loudness in the room, but the buzzing of the fan and the full breaths between them were deafening. Somehow, though neither spoke, there was understanding. And normally, quick to feel nerves in the pit of his gut, Michael would have turned away by now, refusing eye contact and trying to hide the color on his cheeks. But he didn’t this time. The movement in his stomach was different this time. It was still nerves, definitely, but not the kind that made Michael want to curl up and hide. It made him want to see just how long they could stay there, studying each other’s faces and wordlessly saying, “I get it.” Michael got it, how Rich was lost without a guide anymore to tell him what to do, who to be. He was lost on how to help his dad, how to fix things with Jake, how to act like he wasn’t the same loser he was at fourteen, just with dyed hair and more sexual experience. And Rich got Michael, how everything felt stunted. Like the last year was just a really bad trip, and Michael was just trying to cope with it when everyone else had already moved on. Like he was running behind on grief that wasn’t even his to grieve. 

Suddenly, the door to the basement opened, and before the two could register what that meant, there were footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Hey, Michael, your mom let me in, hope you don’t mind-- Oh.” Jeremy stopped at the end of the stairs, looking out at the scene in front of him. Rich and Michael, sat across each other on the floor in front of the bed, both blushing hard, both slightly glowing, both having leaned in to the other at some point while staring at each other. It wasn’t the most incriminating scene to have walked in on, but the air in the room was so intimate. Jeremy had obviously walked in on something he shouldn’t have. 

“I-I’m just gonna go, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just walked down here,” said Jeremy, hands up in defense and turning red himself. He started walking backwards up the stairs as Michael stood up, leaving Rich on the floor.

“Jeremy, wait,” said Michael, following Jeremy out the basement door. Rich heard the very beginning of his defense before the door closed behind them, and Rich was left in the room alone.

Shit.

Rich, before he could change his mind, got up, grabbed his backpack from the couch, and left. His phone was already out and calling someone before he was even a block away. 

“Hey, Jake?”


	6. are we going to talk about this?

The ride to the football field was pretty awkward, actually. Jake was really cool to head straight over to Rich and pick him up, but neither could say anything as they rode in the car. Rich was still burning up (ha.) and blushing furiously, still visibly frazzled, and shaking a little by the time Jake arrived. Jake, by the way, arrived with what Rich knew immedietly was sex hair. So, Rich had a clear idea of what Jake had left in order to come pick him up.

 

The two hopped the fence to the football field, where, by that point, practice was over and the field empty. They picked the bottom bleachers at the far right, where they usually sat when there was an actual game, and stared out into the field for a moment before Jake finally spoke.

 

“So, something clearly happened,” he said. There wasn’t any judgement in his tone, no annoyance or frustration. Just a careful prompt for Rich to explain.

 

“Kind of,” he mumbled. “I mean. Nothing happened, actually. And I think that’s the problem.”

 

“I don’t get it,” said Jake, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. He was wearing his old red hoodie, ironically. If Rich wasn’t in the middle of a fucking crisis, he would have laughed. 

 

“I was over at Michael’s, and we-- I don’t know, man. Fuck. We had a moment, I guess.” 

 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Jake raised his eyebrows, a sly grin on his face. “You and Mell? Holy shit, bro! You two hooked up?”

 

“No, we didn’t--”

 

“Aw, man, so you kissed him?” Jake playfully punched Rich in the shoulder, and it would have felt like old times, Jake teasing Rich about his newest escapade, if the punch hadn’t hit a sore scar that was on the last edge of healing. Funny, Rich had lost all feeling in most of the places where he got burned, except his left upper arm.

 

“Ow! Fuck!” Rich leaned away, rubbing softly at his arm as Jake started apologizing. “Fuck off, not your fault, man. Fuck. This hurts.”

 

“Your arm really that bad, still?” asked Jake, pity lacing his voice. 

 

“No, I meant…” Rich sighed, running his hands over his face. He groaned in frustration, muttering a few expletives before sitting up and facing Jake. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Rich, don’t. We’re talking about whatever happened at Mell’s.”

 

“Fuck you. I’m sorry.” Rich stood up on the bleacher, towering over Jake for once in his life. “Why can’t you hate me? Why are you still so fucking nice to me after all the shit I did? God, Jake! I set your  _ house  _ on fire. While your parents were on the run from the  _ feds. _ I made you homeless  _ and _ I was a complete dick to you when you visited me in the hospital-- which, by the way,  _ fuck you _ for doing! You could’ve just hated me and never spoken to me again, but you had to come  _ see me? _ What the  _ fuck? _ ”

 

Jake stared up at Rich, whose red face wasn’t from whatever had happened in the basement. It was from half a year’s worth of pent of rage at his own self, and never even getting any acknowledgement for it. 

 

“You might want to work on your apologies,” said Jake finally, though, again, (seriously, fuck this guy!) his tone was free of judgement.

 

“I’m sorry.” Rich sat back down, feeling pressure build up in his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t ever say it enough, but I’m sorry.” 

 

Jake pursed his lips, and Rich knew he’d accepted his apologies a long time ago. “You know,” Jake started, “when that squip thing got into my head, it was pretty fucked up.”

 

“They tend to be, yeah,” said Rich, not sure where Jake was going with this.

 

“I mean, you know me. I’m a good-looking guy. I got my bros, my chicks, my academic records, my trophies. I was doing great, and I knew it.” Jake shrugged. “Or, I thought so. That thing got into my head and I guess I didn’t realize how bummed I was all the time. Like, I do so much shit, but it’s all distractions, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“It really pulled out some deeply fucked up stuff, like… things I was insecure about, that I didn’t even know I was insecure about. And that messed me up for a while after we got them taken out or removed or whatever.”

 

“That happens, yeah.”

 

“My point is,” said Jake finally, “I had that thing in my head for, what, five minutes? And it left me messed up. You had it for, like, a year and a half. That you didn’t try to burn down my house sooner is  mystery to me.”

 

Rich looked down at the ground underneath the bleachers. It was starting to get dark out, and the shadows on the grass underneath them was easier to stare at than Jake’s stupid understanding face. “I wanted to. A lot. But I was getting everything I wanted, you know? Everything was so  _ good _ that I couldn’t get rid of it.”

 

“So what made you?”

 

Rich looked up. “What?”

 

Jake looked at him expectedly. “What made you want to get rid of it?”

 

Well, as long as they had already been spilling out their guts, might as well. “It was trying to stop me from having feelings for you.”

 

Suave as he was, Jake couldn’t hide the flicker of uncomfortableness on his face. “You... had feelings for me?”

 

“Yeah,” said Rich nonchalantly. “Not anything too serious, but… Like you said, you’re a good-looking guy. And I’m bi as hell. After a while, I was noticing you, and the squip wasn’t a fan. It wasn’t, like, homophobic or some shit, but it could tell that if I tried going for you, it wouldn’t go well. And then I got real uncomfortable, I guess, ‘cause it honestly wasn’t even letting me think about you. Every time I tried, it shocked me. Real torture shit.”

 

“Dude, that’s totally homophobic.”

 

Rich laughed dryly. “Maybe.”

 

They sat there in silence for a while, watching the sun setting over the field. It’d be curfew soon.

 

“Do you still?” said Jake in a small voice.

 

“Hmm?” Rich pried his eyes off the field and looked at Jake, who was looking uncomfortable again. 

 

“Have feelings for me.”

 

Rich shook his head. “It was right. We would’ve never worked out.” He started to get up and walk out of the bleachers. “Plus, I think I’m stuck on someone else now.”

 

\--

 

Michael hated crying. He really, really hated crying. In general, anything that made him feel vulnerable was a big old “nope!” And crying made him feel the most vulnerable. 

 

Yet there he was, trembling and trying so hard not to cry in front of Jeremy, trying to keep him from leaving and not being able to hear his defense. He’d cried plenty of times in front of Jeremy-- you can’t be best friends with someone for thirteen years and not cry in front of them-- but this time felt different. Felt weighted. Felt even more wrong than usual.

 

“It’s fine, I get it, I’m just gonna head out. I should’ve texted before I showed up, anyway,” said Jeremy, flustered as hell. He always got jittery when he was nervous. 

 

“Jeremy, please.” Michael grabbed his arm as they almost left the front porch. “Please don’t go again,” he said, his voice cracking at the end. 

 

Jeremy turned around to face Michael. They both looked so out of it. When they were together, everything usually felt smooth and right. Michael always considered them platonic soul mates. But right now, they felt ill fitted. They didn’t fit into each other like they used to. It broke Michael’s heart. 

 

“Okay,” said Jeremy finally. “I won’t leave.” 

 

Michael nodded, wiping his wet face with his arm, blanching at the feeling of skin on skin without his hoodie on. He muttered a “let’s go inside” before leading Jeremy in and back down to the basement. Michael didn’t notice when Rich had left, but his things were missing from the floor. 

 

“Guess he left,” Michael said under his breath, mostly to himself. Guilt stung in his chest.

 

“I didn’t know you two were… like that,” said Jeremy, standing in the middle of the room as if it hadn’t used to be his second home. That, too, broke Michael’s heart.

 

“Like… what?” asked Michael.

 

“Like…” Jeremy made some abstract gesture with his hands. It took a hot second before Michael could interpret it. 

 

“Oh! Oh my God, no. Oh my God. We’re-- no. We’re friends.” Michael could feel his face burning up again.

 

“Oh.” Jeremy nodded, unconvinced. “Cool. You guys spend a lot of time together now.”

 

Was Michael imagining the subtle accusation there? “Yeah. We’re, uh, friends.”

 

“You said that.”

 

“I did.”

 

“You did.” 

 

They stood across from each other, both clearly uncomfortable, both silently wishing they could skip this and go back to when things felt normal. 

 

“So, uh, what made you come visit?” asked Michael.

 

“Felt like time.” Jeremy swayed on the heels of his feet. “I miss you, man.”

 

Michael felt that pang in his chest again. “I missed you, too.”

 

Jeremy offered a soft smile. “Think I can stay over tonight? It’s been forever since we had a Mario Kart night.”

 

Michael started to say yes, to cling on to Jeremy for the night, but his mouth betrayed him. “No. No, Jeremy, I--”  _ I want to talk about last year.  _ “I think you should go.”

 

Jeremy’s face fell. “Oh. Yeah, ‘course. ‘Cause we’ve got class tomorrow, right?”

 

“Yeah. Because we have class tomorrow,” said Michael, though neither of them believed him. 

 

\--

 

Michael was still there at Rich’s drive way the next morning, much to Rich’s surprise. He was 100% ready to walk to school that morning, but, like every morning, Michael’s PT cruiser was there waiting for him.

 

“Thanks,” said Rich, noting how neither of them looked each other in the eye as he entered the car. The air was tense, but… a weird tense. A kind Rich couldn’t really put his finger on. 

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

They drove wordlessly, listening to Michael’s David Bowie CDs as they left the neighborhood. 

 

“Didn’t know if you’d show up today,” said Rich, growing some balls.

 

“Almost didn’t. I was going to fake sick today, actually, but my parents are actually here this week, and my dad would’ve seen right through me.” 

 

“That’s what you get for having a doctor father you. You should’ve done what I did and found yourself a deadbeat dad who doesn’t give a shit what you do. I could probably get married today, and he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass.”

 

Rich saw Michael crack a smile-- just a small one, but it was something. 

 

They neared the school parking lot. And just before they left for their morning meet up with the group at the stairwell, Rich reached out for Michael’s arm, getting his attention. 

 

“Are we going to talk about yesterday?” he asked, as though it were a secret the rest of the parking lot would have heard.

 

“Do you want to?” 

 

“We don’t have to.”

 

“Okay.” Michael pulled away, climbing out of the driver’s seat.  Rich guessed that was his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi uhhh thank you so much for the kudos and comments, they seriously have meant so much to me :') 
> 
> also haha i realize this entire time any italics and stuff haven't been showing up on past chapters. this is my very first time ever using ao3, so im still trying to figure it out. hopefully i've figured it out now, but if the formatting is a little weird, i just want to apologize real quick!
> 
> anyway, thank you again for reading! it means the world!


	7. halloween party (of two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for discussion of suicide. 
> 
> thanks again so much for reading! and thank you so so much for every comment and kudos (just hit 69 kudos..... lmaoooooo wassupppp) !

Halloween was coming up. It had to, eventually. That’s how time works. But neither Michael nor Rich was prepared, and they were dreading it. 

 

Jake wasn’t throwing a party that year for several reasons. One, he couldn’t exactly throw a banging party at his grandparents’ place. Two, if you throw a party on the anniversary of your last party where your house got burned to ashes, it’s pretty much guaranteed to end up a tragedy. Three, the entire season was kind of ruined. As soon as October hit, Rich was a completely different person. It was like he was walking around terrified that at any second, he could go crazy and commit another act of arson. It was really raining down on everyone’s mood.

 

Michael and Rich excused themselves a lot that month. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

 

The actual day of the event was the worst of all. They nearly skipped class that day to go distract themselves from the memories of the year before, but they’d been faking sick so much that month that one more absence probably would have gotten them detention. 

 

They didn’t even try and eat lunch with their friends, though. Seeing Jeremy and Jake and Christine and Chloe and everyone else… it was too much. It was like being at the party all over again.

 

They hid out in Michael’s car, listening to some songs Rich didn’t recognize but Michael was half-heartedly jamming out to. They’d tried to keep their spirits up by splurging on junk food and Chipotle, but neither could really get out of their heads. It was a bad day. No getting around it. 

 

Michael shoved his sofritos around in his bowl, wishing he could just get high and forget everything. He was so tempted to take a few hits before school that morning, but he had to drive Rich, and he knew that once the high wore off, he’d go back to wanting to crawl back in bed. 

 

He knew Rich must be feeling worse. Hell, Halloween had some pretty powerful memories for Michael he was trying to avoid, but Rich had an even worse experience last year. And it showed. Rich was stuck in his own head all day, constantly spacing out and not able to focus on anything for more than two minutes. It was clear what was preoccupying his brain, and Michael felt helpless to dig him out of his thought trench.

 

Though, he was still going to try. “Rich, you still with me?”

 

“Hmm?” He looked up from his bag of twizzlers, blinking a few times before reorienting himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m with you now.”

 

“Good.” Michael leaned sideways against the car seat, facing Rich. “We’ve still got half an hour of lunch left. Think you can make it?”

 

Rich sluggishly shook his head. In this state, he seemed to move in slow motion. Completely opposite to his normal level of high energy. “I might just… I don’t know. Hang with the nurses for the rest of the day.”

 

“She’ll probably understand,” said Michael. Rich’s gaze started turning blank, and Michael leaned forward to snap his fingers in his face. “Hey. Come on, Rich. You can’t have tragic flashbacks right now when we’re supposed to be having the best lunch of the year. Tomorrow everything’ll be over, it’ll go right back to normal. Hey-- hey? Rich?”

 

Rich shook his head, trying to pull himself back to reality. He looked up at Michael, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched. 

 

“...Rich?” 

 

“I think it’s trying to come back.” Rich barely had time to lean back in his seat before Michael pushed the food out of his lap and reversed out of the parking spot. He was swift and purposeful in his driving, going down the same route they took every day, in half the time. Rich didn’t even have enough time to process what was going on before Michael ran into his house, coming back quicker than should have been humanly possible, and tossing Rich a bottle of red soda before he could even sit down in the driver’s seat.

 

Rich stared at the bottle in his hands before screwing off the cap. “Forgot you kept these around.”

 

“They were for Jeremy,” said Michael, closing the car door beside him. “When he woke up in the hospital, he’d get weird, like, whispers sometimes. It wasn’t anything drastic, and he could ignore it most of the time, but I figured I’d stock up just in case it ever came back for him. Guess it makes sense yours would.”

 

Rich took a couple of sips, noting the irony in how a year ago, he would’ve killed to get his hands on a bottle of Mountain Dew Red. He’d actually never drank it before. When Christine did, and all the squips started deactivating, so did Rich’s. He’d been alone in the hospital, suddenly getting the worst fucking headache of his entire life, his squip glitching and dissolving from across the room. He had felt like his brain was going to explode, and he ended up passing out before the nurses could give him more pain relievers. He woke up, and his nurses couldn’t give him an explanation for what had happened. But Rich could guess. There was radio silence in his head for the first time in fifteen months. When Jeremy was admitted to the room next to him and slowly Rich could piece together what had happened, he realized it was true: somehow, the squips had been deactivated. 

 

Well, mostly. 

 

“Ah--  _ fuck  _ me!” Rich clutched at his forehead, wincing at the pain. It wasn’t as bad as the first time around, but pretty close. The searing pain all around his head made everything turn dark, flecks of color freckling his vision. He sputtered out curse after curse, until he found himself waking up on a bed, somewhere familiar. It took him a moment to sit up, groaning about his headache as he looked around the room. Michael must’ve brought Rich in when he blacked out in the car, because this was clearly Michael’s room. Rich could recognize it after a while, after his headache started to fade into the background. Still hurting like hell, but a little more manageable. Michael was missing from the room, though Rich could hear Billy Joel playing softly from a record player in the corner. 

 

Slowly, Rich started to get up from the bed, his hand still clutching at his hair, as if pulling on it would relieve the stabbing feeling. He wondered how long he’d been out. 

 

“You’re up,” said Michael, coming down the stairs.

 

“Yeah, my brain’s done throwing a piss fit now.” Rich sat at the edge of the bed, his feet dangling off the edge. “How long was I out for?”

 

“Just a few hours.”

 

“Shit! A few hours?” 

 

“Yeah, a little less than six.” Michael made his way across the room, sitting down at his desk. He must’ve been studying while Rich was knocked out, or so it seemed that way from the open textbooks laid out on the desk. He laughed playfully at Rich’s expression. “Dude, Jeremy was out for, like, five  _ days _ when his squip got ripped out. A few hours isn’t that bad.”

 

Rich shrugged. “We missed the rest of school.” 

 

Michael laughed again. It was light, completely different from the way he seemed earlier that day. “When have you cared about that?”

 

“Yeah, good point.” Rich hissed through his teeth as he felt another stab of pain. This time around wasn’t nearly as painful as the first time the squip was deactivated. Even though it felt like his skull was going to crack, he preferred the few more minutes of pain versus a half-solid image of his squip forming in his peripheral. He’d nearly shit himself in Michael’s car when he started hearing a faint “processing… processing… processing…” run through his brain. “Wait, shit, what time is it?”

 

Michael looked down at his phone on the desk. “Quarter to seven.”

 

“Fuck. I have curfew in, like, twenty minutes.” Rich fell back down against the bed, his headache getting worse for a different reason. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his dad, who no doubt would be extra hostile today on the anniversary of Rich’s last Fuck Up.

 

“I don’t think you should be walking around right now, Rich. You were knocked out cold five minutes ago. I know it might not work, but… maybe you can call your dad?”

 

“And tell him what? That I’m fucked up again on a second Halloween in a row?” 

 

“You could ask if you can stay over. Say we have a project we’ve got to get done and we need to stay up tonight to finish it?”

 

It took a second for Rich to pick up what Michael was putting down. “Where’s my phone?”

 

“Should still be in your bag,” said Michael, walking over to where he’d laid Rich’s backpack on the floor. He tossed Rich’s phone over to him, and the latter went straight to text his dad. He knew his dad would say no if he actually called, and Rich was a horrible liar anyway, so he just shot a text that said “Staying over at Jake’s tonight”, figuring his dad would remember Jake, and figuring he could deal with the consequences tomorrow. 

 

The situation felt  _ weird. _ Rich hadn’t ever stayed overnight, and, somehow, sleeping in the same room as Michael felt dirty. Which was weird, right? Rich had literally eaten ass before, but sleeping within five feet of Michael Mell felt  _ dirty. _ What the fuck.

 

“Are you parents here tonight?” asked Rich, kind of hoping the answer would be yes. It’d have felt less risque to know that Michael’s parents were upstairs the whole time.

 

“Nah. Dad picked up the extra shift since it’s Halloween, and they always get ten times more idiots coming through the ER on Halloween.” 

 

“And your mom? Still in Trenton?”

 

“Still in Trenton.” Michael played with a pencil between his fingers for a while, staring up at the ceiling. “So, Jeremy came by for a bit after school, while you were still sleeping. He got pretty freaked out when we didn’t show up for the rest of the day.”

 

“What’d you tell him?” Rich was glad he was laying down, and Michael couldn’t see him roll his eyes when he mentioned Jeremy. Not that he had anything against the guy, obviously, but he couldn’t help the slight twinge of jealousy whenever Michael brought him up. 

 

“You hurled in my car from bad Chipotle and were sleeping it off.” Michael laughed sarcastically. “I don’t think he bought it, but that’s whatever. Anyway, we chilled in my living room for a little until he had to head out again. It was super quick, maybe thirty minutes, but…” 

 

“But?” 

 

“I think you were right. I’m still not over Jeremy.” 

 

Completely expected, and yet Rich still felt his stomach churning. “Told you so,” he mumbled, though it wasn’t with any feeling of satisfaction. 

 

“Stupid, right?” Michael sighed, hearing silence in the room and getting up to reset the Billy Joel record playing. 

 

“Man, I don’t know what to tell you, Mikey.” Rich turned over on his side, so he could face Michael. The fire in his head had simmered down to a low flame, just tolerable enough so he could start focusing on details in the room again. He noticed for the first time that Michael had changed at some point, and was sitting in a T shirt and shorts. The kind of casual clothes you’d expect from someone studying in his room, but it was more skin than Rich was used to seeing.

 

Again, he’d  _ literally _ licked an asshole before, but,  _ somehow _ , seeing Michael’s knees was causing him to blush. What was he, a twelve year old?

 

“Yeah, I know.” Michael sat back down at his desk, playing with the pencil again. “How’s your head?”

 

“Been worse. Did you tell Jeremy about last year?”

 

“What?” Michael froze, staring at Rich as he sat up on the bed.

 

“He came over earlier. You didn’t bring it up?”

 

“No, I’m not telling him about that, remember?”

 

“C’mon, Mikey, I told Jake about my shit. Tell Jeremy about yours. Get your… closure or whatever.” Rich waved his hand around vaguely, as if “closure” was no big deal. As if the whole situation wasn’t a big deal.

 

It was to Michael. “Why are you bringing this up? No, seriously, why are you bringing up the worst night of my life right now? I don’t want to talk about it, and I  _ especially _ don’t want to talk about it with Jeremy.”

 

“I repeat: I talked about my shit with Jake, so you should talk about your shit with Jeremy.” 

 

“It’s not the  _ same _ , Rich.”

 

“Oh, really?” Rich raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “And how’s it different?”

 

“Because-- because it is. We had totally different things going on that night, and you know it.”

 

“Do I, Mikey?” 

 

Michael shook his head, confused. “What?”

 

“Why do you think I set Jake’s place on fire?” Rich was stone-faced now. Michael couldn’t read any expression on it.

 

“Because… of the squip.”

 

“Yeah. Because of the squip. Because I had a computer inside my brain that wouldn’t shut the fuck up, and the only way to get it out was through some soda that no one at that party had ever even heard of.”

 

“I don’t get it.” Michael kept shaking his head, half-convinced Rich was saying nonsense because of his headache. “I thought the squip told you to set the fire.”

 

“It didn’t. I set the fire because the only other way I thought I’d be free of the squip was-- the squip can’t work if it doesn’t have a brain to attach itself to, right?”

 

Michael just stared. 

 

“So, get rid of the host, and the parasite yeets out of existance,” Rich continued, hoping the use of meme would lighten the mood. It didn’t. 

 

“I guess that makes sense,” said Michael, finally, barely audible.

 

“Yeah. It was a solid plan, actually.” Rich sighed, looking away from Michael and the sympathy filling those brown eyes of his. “So, no, we didn’t have that different of a thing going on that night.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of Billy Joel the only thing cutting through the heaviness in the room. The dark piano and vocals seemed appropriate, somehow. 

 

And then they heard a guitar riff that they both instantly recognized. The two locked eyes, not sure how to react, and then immediately burst into laughter at the song change to “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” 

 

Michael turned the record player down as their laughter died, the atmosphere in the room ten times lighter. “I can’t believe you used the word ‘yeet’ to describe dying,” said Michael playfully. 

 

Rich grinned his usual crooked smile. “What can I say? I knew my lisp wasn’t going to be ridiculous enough, so I kicked it up a notch. I wasn’t about to talk about something  _ seriously _ .”

 

“No, no, you were not,” replied Michael. 


	8. richard, you bi fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! ive been trying not to upload more than one chapter a day, but this chapter really just explore's some of michael's character and sets the scene for the bigger plot point coming up, which im really excited about writing!
> 
> also-- i've changed the summary of this fic and the title. the title used to be the incredibly unoriginal "expensive headphones" (which i kinda felt weird about tbh bc i didn't come up with that ship name at all!) 
> 
> nothing else has changed, but just in case i thought i'd throw that out there in case its confusing
> 
> as always, thanks so much for reading!!!

He hadn’t thought it through at first, but once night came, Michael remembered why he hadn’t ever invited Rich over night before. Part of it was Rich’s curfew, sure, and part of it was definitely nerves about having anyone but Jeremy stay overnight. And with Jeremy, the two of them had had sleepovers every week since they were five years old. There was less to worry about with Jeremy, because he’d been through everything with Michael. He never had to explain or defend himself with Jeremy because they’d been each other’s number one since childhood, and through puberty, into adolescence, and through Michael’s second puberty. 

 

Which complicated things a bit. 

 

Michael didn’t usually talk about the whole trans thing. It wasn’t really relevent ever, and, even with Jeremy, who had known Michael before he’d even had the vocabulary to describe being trans, he never really brought it up unless he had to. After he came out and started hormones halfway into high school, the only times he actually mentioned being trans to Jeremy was when they would celebrate some milestone.

 

And one milestone he had to wait until eighteen to hit was top surgery. 

 

And with Jeremy, it was no big deal. Jeremy had been there when Michael’s chest was developing, to when Michael started binding, and would still be there when Michael got those damn things sliced off. 

 

But Rich hadn’t been there, and it made Michael way more nervous than he’d care to admit to face the fact that, eventually, as they went to sleep, he’d have to take off his binder.

 

They’d already argued over who would take the bed (Michael won, bringing up that Rich was the guest and also suffered from a brain re programming earlier that day and therefore needed the bed more), and it was nearing midnight. If they were going to show up to class the next morning, it’d have been a good idea to go to bed soon. 

  
  


Rich, never one to be shy about, well, anything, had already stripped out of his pants, leaving him sitting on Michael’s bed in a tank top and boxer briefs and socks-- which, Micahel thought was pretty weird. Who sleeps with socks on? And Rich was so casual about it, too, as if it was no big deal to be sitting around in his underwear. Okay, it wasn’t really a big deal. Michael and Jeremy used to spend every summer in the basement in even less clothes, pressed up against the fans and trying not to die from the heat.

 

This felt different though. Michael chalked it up to not having known Rich for as long, not having grown up with Rich. That must’ve been why.

 

“Hey, it’s, like, a minute til midnight, Mikey,” said Rich. Michael looked over from the couch over to Rich, who was still casually scrolling on his phone while laying on Michael’s bed. “We should probably hit the sack soon, man.”

 

“Yeah,” agreed Michael. “I’ll go turn off the light.” He started to get up from the couch and walk over to the light switch by the door, but the sound of Rich saying something cut him off.

 

“Dude, there’s no way you can sleep in jean shorts. That sounds uncomfortable as fuck,” said Rich, looking up from his phone. He wasn’t serious, but Michael must’ve made a face or something, because the playful smile from Rich’s face faded. It was instantly replaced by realization. “Oh, shit, man.” He started to rise from the bed. “Yo, I can leave the room if you need to, like… take care of things,” he said, vaguely gesturing. 

 

“No-- no, you’re fine, I’m just-- uh, I’m going to go to the bathroom first.” Michael started to head up the stairs.

 

“Yeah, yeah, go for it, Mike,” Rich called after him. “I’ll, uh-- I’ll be asleep by the time you get back, so, uh, don’t worry about it.” 

 

“Right,” said Michael, heading up the stairs as fast he could without being suspicious. He headed straight for the bathroom, caught his breath, wrestled out of his binder and shorts, and waited a good fifteen minutes before heading back down the stairs. 

 

Rich’s back was to him, and, from what Michael could tell, he was already asleep. He quietly gave a sigh of relief as he tiptoed to the couch, throwing his binder and shorts onto his desk chair, and trying to fall asleep as fast as he could.

 

\--

 

When the six am alarm rang, Rich was the one to immediately wake up. His head still ached, but it was worlds better than it was last night, and, actually, Rich was pretty relieved to find he’d been able to sleep pretty well considering the day before. He woke up feeling fresh, new, and with the biggest appreciation for the date: November first. 

 

He sat up, stretching his tight muscles and looking around the room as sunlight trickled in from the high window in the corner. Michael, sound asleep still on the couch, had yet to turn off the alarm on his phone. It was almost like he wasn’t hearing it, though the alarm was so loud, Rich couldn’t figure out how that could be. Getting up from the bed, Rich headed over to the desk, pressing the “off” on Michael’s phone alarm, and walking over to the couch. 

 

He opened his mouth to playfully sing a “Rise and shine”, but the image of Michael on the couch in front of him, was, well, something. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his usually styled hair was down in front of his face, which was peaceful. He was curled up into himself, like a fetus or koala or something, his shoulders raising and lowering with each deep breath. He almost didn’t look real.

 

Rich cringed at himself, thinking how creepy it was that he was staring at his friend sleeping. Seriously, that was some Twilight vampire romance shit. Totally not Rich’s style. He knelt down beside the couch and carefully nudged Michael’s shoulder, who woke up with a start.

 

Rich didn’t realize how close he was to Michael’s face until he saw Michael flip his shit. 

 

“AH!” Michael shot up, hands up in defense, and voice cracking as he yelled. His eyes were wide as he took in the scene. “What the  _ hell _ , Rich,” said Michael, coming down from what felt like a heart attack. He clutched at his chest, feeling his heartbeat race. 

 

Rich had fallen back when Michael screamed in his face, and was now sitting on the floor, propped up against his elbows behind him. “Sorry, Mikey. My b.” He would’ve sounded much more genuine if he wasn’t a little distracted. It was fucked up, but Rich couldn’t help but stare a little longer than necessary at Michael and his messy hair, his red tinged cheeks, his heavy breathing. 

 

Alright, Richard, you bi fuck. Get your mind out of the gutter.

 

Michael started to settle down, his breathing starting to settle down as he squinted his eyes. He didn’t have his glasses, but his vision wasn’t so messed up that he couldn’t tell Rich was staring-- at what? Michael crossing his arms across his chest, hopping off the couch and, starting to redden even more, made his way up the stairs.

 

Rich belatedly realized what Michael thought he was staring at, and yelled out a “Hold on, Mikey!” right as Michael reached the stairs. 

 

He didn’t turn around to face Rich.

 

“Sorry, dude, I seriously wasn’t trying to stare at your, uh, area or whatever. seriously!” said Rich, not sure what words were suitable. 

 

“I’m not stupid, Rich. It’s fine, I’m just going to go change upstairs--”

 

“I’m serious, Mikey! I’m not, like, trying to make you feel shitty or anything, but I seriously wasn’t staring at that!”

 

“So what were you staring at?”

 

Rich hesitated, which probably didn’t help his case. Okay, it  _ definitely  _ didn’t help his case.

 

“Whatever,” grumbled Michael, taking a step up. “I’ll be upsta--”

 

“You looked cute, okay?” 

 

Michael froze on the stairs, his back still turned, and his face still red. “You’re not a good liar, Rich.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I’m not lying.” Rich ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I don’t want to make this weird or anything, but--”

 

“It’s already weird.”

 

“ _ But.  _ You looked kind of cute. I didn’t mean to stare, man, I swear, I just got caught up, I guess.”

 

Rich swore he saw Michael’s tense shoulder loosen, and the back of his ears get redder, but before he could say anything else, Michael was out the door of the basement. 


	9. jake dillinger should not be giving romantic advice.

Rich groaned, putting his head in his hands. “I’m so fucking  _ into  _ him, Jakey D!”

 

“Dude, focus. You’re supposed to be spotting me,” said Jake, taking a short pause. He waited until Rich had his eyes back on him and the equipment before lifting the weights again. “So-- what’s the-- problem?” he asked in between lifts. 

 

“First off, this isn’t some random chick I’m trying to fuck. I actually, like,  _ care _ about him and shit.”

 

“Eugh. Feelings.”

 

“Bro, tell me about it.” Rich sighed. “Second off, I probably freaked him the fuck out after last night.”

 

“So you tried-- to sneak-- a peak-- at his man tits--”

 

Rich shot Jake a glare. “Dude.”

 

“Sorry.” Jake sat up as he finished his set, grabbing his water bottle. “But what’s the big deal?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s like if I caught you staring at my dick or something, I guess.”

 

“No, idiot, I mean: what’s the big deal if you’re into him?”

 

“Besides the shit I just mentioned?”

 

Jake wiped his forehead sweat. “Yeah, besides that.”

 

“I forgot to mention he’s still in love with Heere.” Rich whined again as he sat down on the bench, throwing his head back. “Ugh. He’s  _ still _ all goey-eyed even when Jeremy’s sitting across him kissing the ground Christine walks on.”

 

Jake put a hand on Rich’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re being a chick about this. There’s a way easy fix to this.”

 

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

 

“If you want someone to obsess and love you for the rest of their lives, you just gotta be the first person they hook up with. Easy shit.”

 

Rich rolled his eyes, dead-panning. “You want me to sleep with  _ Michael Mell _ \-- who I don’t think has ever even seen a dick in his life, by the way-- to get him to, what, fall in love with me?” Rich laughed sarcastically. “I think these endorphins are going to your head, Jakey D.”

 

Jake shrugged, getting up to another machine and settling underneath the weights. Rich followed, assuming position as spotter. “Whatever, man. Just think about it, and you’ll see I’m making total sense,” he said before taking the weights into his hands and grunting up with effort.

 

Rich sighed, though the idea didn’t completely leave his head. 

 

\--

 

So, after carefully thinking it over for a week, Rich decided it was objectively a terrible fucking idea to try and have sex with Michael.

 

But, Jake had a point, he realized. Hell, there were a couple of girls at Middleborough who would try to hit up Rich every once in a while. It wasn’t that they were in love with him or anything, but he’d been their first hook up, and he guessed he held a special place in their life forever for being their “first.” Hypothetically, that should apply to Michael too, right?

 

Right. All Rich needed to do was plant one on him, and Michael would forget all about Jeremy. Jeremy Heere? More like Jeremy  _ Whoo,  _ haha, right, ladies?

 

Rich cringed inwardly at his own joke. 

 

\--

 

Saturdays had become habit for them. Since Rich’s dad was usually on his worst behavior when Rich and his brother weren’t at school for eight hours, and he was distracted by football like on Sundays, Rich had started taking refuge in Michael’s basement every Saturday, heading over before his dad woke up (just before noon) and staying until curfew (at sundown.) Luckily, Michael didn’t mind. His parents were usually out every weekend working, and he no longer spent Saturdays at Jeremy’s place. Especially not now that Saturdays were Jeremy and Christine’s date night.

 

Again, if Michael were a better person, he would have thought that was super cute. 

 

So, at eleven-thirty am on the dot, Rich arrived, snacks in hand. They usually played video games or watched bad movies, and it was nice. On Friday nights, Rich had gotten back into going out to parties with Jake, getting as shit-faced or high as he could while still being able to wake up the next morning, and settling down on Saturday afternoons with Michael had become the perfect way to wind-down. 

 

Michael hated parties, like,  _ really _ hated them. He was more into the chill, hang out in private with at the most three people around kind of guy. And spending the whole day in his basement, eating garbage and making stupid comments about whatever one-star movie they’d chosen that day was heaven.

 

Rich thought so, too. Only, there was always a part of him that ached whenever they hung out like this. As the two sat on opposite sides of the couch, snacks between them and a healthy two feet of no-homo space between them as they curled up in front of the tv, Rich was, um, fucking dying. The space was always too much.

 

As the months flew by and the semester came to its end, Michael and Rich got more and more comfortable with each other. They’d created a routine, and, with it, the hesitations about everything lessened. By the time December rolled around, they’d gotten so used to each other that Michael no longer squirmed if Rich stretched out his legs on top of him, and Michael had settled to lounging around in his shorts and a thick hoodie-- no binder underneath. 

 

But, with December and the winter holidays, came winter break. And on the first Monday after school was let out, Michael would be flying with his parents down to Ecuador, and wouldn’t return until just before Rich’s birthday in January. 

 

So, if Rich was gonna make a move, the smartest time would be their last Saturday before Michael flew to another country for a month, right?  _ Right? _

 

They were on opposite sides of the couch again, just past five. Fuck daylight’s savings, because in an hour, Rich would have to head back to his house, which had a severe lack in cute boys in red hoodies and messy hair with a bag of funyuns in his lap. Rich never felt more creepy than when he’d glanced sideways at Michael, who would always end up licking his fingers whenever his fingers got too covered in onion ring dust. It drove Rich crazy. Their two feet of no-homo-bro between them had, over time, dissolved into one foot of space, which still felt like too much, but Rich knew beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

 

Michael turned to Rich, feeling eyes on the side of his head. He raised his eyebrows as he caught Rich seemingly spacing out again. “Dude, is the movie boring you that much?”

 

Rich shook his head, rubbing a thumb at the corner of his mouth. “Nah, you’ve got a little something right here.”

 

“Here?” Michael started rubbing at his own mouth, but before he could get too far, Rich leaned over and swiped a thumb over the corner of Michael’s lips. 

 

“No, here.” Rich kept his finger on Michael’s lips long enough for Michael’s ears to start burning. And, before he could pussy out, Rich closed his eyes and slowly started to lean his face toward Michael’s.

 

And time slowed down. Maybe it was just in Rich’s head, but he felt like he’d been dunked in one of those sensory deprivation tanks, where the only thing he could feel was the spatial distance between his lips and Michael’s. And he inched closer and closer, until:

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

Rich’s eyes flew open, and he leaned back, taking in Michael in front of him, with an expression on his face Rich couldn’t make out. His tone wasn’t horrified, or confused, even. He’d breathed out the question, almost stating it instead of asking. Like he knew exactly what Rich was doing, and didn’t know how to stop it.

 

Rich felt his stomach turn to liquid. “Sorry.”

 

“Were you trying to kiss me?” Again, Michael spoke like he knew what the answer was. Then, the look on his face changed suddenly, and was replaced with what Rich could guess was embarrassment, tinged with… with something else. “I know you just figured out you’re bi, or whatever, but, I’m not really in the mood to be your experiment, here,” he mumbled, though it didn’t sound like Michael believed his own reasoning. 

 

Rich stood up from the couch, wanting to melt into the floor. “That’s not what-- I gotta go. I better get home soon. You don’t need to give me a ride,” he said as he grabbed his shoes and phone from behind the couch. Michael didn’t argue with him.

 

Rich made his way up the stairs, and stopped right at the door before looking back, seeing Michael, now risen from the couch, watching him go. Rich shot him a half-assed grin, trying to shrug off the rejection. “Sorry about that, again, Mikey.”

 

“It’s okay,” said Michael, and Rich believed him.

 

He paused for a beat. “Is it still Jeremy?”

 

Michael looked down at his hands, and Rich immediately understood. 

 

“Merry Christmas, Mikey. See you next year,” said Rich, as jolly as he could before exiting through the door, and walking home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks as always for reading!!


	10. epiphany

January 12th, and the snow outside had cut through and into the Mell household, making the air inside stiff and brittle. It was just after nine, and the family had been settling in for two hours now, unpacking and trying to enjoy being back in New Jersey again. Naturally, after a month of being surrounded by people nonstop, Michael retreated to his room and let the sound of old vinyls float around the basement. There was still a week before classes began again, and Michael took advantage of this time to recollect himself. International calls and texts were a lot, and wifi wasn’t always readily available where he went, so his interactions with his friends back home in Jersey were usually brief and casual. He’d missed them. Rich and Jeremy, especially, and he knew the next morning, the first thing he’d do is call up Jeremy and get in a video game marathon. Maybe sometime this week he’d even call Jenna and get her tell him all about any drama or exciting news that had happened over break.

 

Now, Rich…

 

Michael hadn’t really let himself think about Rich too much, but, still, Rich was everywhere. He was in the ground, where the soil matched the color of his warm, brown eyes. He was in the shouts of street vendors, the friendliness of neighbors, the heat in the air. On Christmas, when his family took a trip to the coast, all Michael could picture was having Rich there. He wanted Rich to experience the smell of salt in the air, the softness of the sand underneath their feet, how wicked the rocks at the edge were, and how they would tear up Michael’s feet if he accidentally stepped on one. 

 

He was brought out of his daydreaming at the sound of knocking above him. Above him? No, coming from the small window, the only one in the room. It was at the top of the wall across him, near the roof, but, through the ice that had taken over the window, Michael could hear light knocking and the shadows of a hand on the window. 

 

This is definitely how people get murdered in horror movies, but Michael brought his chair over to the wall, climbed on top, and opened the window. 

 

A few snowflakes flew into the room, but, more importantly, Rich Goranski was kneeling by the window, huddled up in a million different layers, the tip of his nose rosy, his pale skin standing out against the night. He instantly grinned, and the cold from outside the room was cut off by the warmth of Rich’s smile. 

 

“Rich?” Michael half-whispered. He couldn’t help but smile back. “What are you doing here? It’s, like, nine on a Wednesday.”

 

“But soft! Light is breaking your window, and all that shit!” 

 

“Shh!” Michael waved his hand in front of Rich’s face, shushing him. “Dude! My parents are actually here for once!”

 

“Okay, okay,” whispered Rich, rubbing his nose. “You gonna let me in, or not?”

 

Well, if he didn’t have a choice… Michael opened the window fully, and carefully helped Rich down from the window. Try as they might have, the height of the window and the poor chair couldn’t guarantee a perfect entrance, and Rich fell through, landing on Michael with a thump.

 

It wasn’t even two seconds before they heard a voice from above the stairs shout down in Spanish. 

 

“Si, ‘stoy bien, Mami!” Michael quickly shouted back in accented Spanish, not that Rich would’ve been able to tell. Rich, who, by the way, was still propping himself above Michael. Both boys blushed at the compromising position, but neither moved. Michael exchanged a few other words to his mother through the door, reassuring her that he was fine, and, don’t worry, Mami, some books just fell, before they finally heard her walk away. 

 

Rich’s arms were starting to get tired from propping himself just above Michael to not touch the boy underneath him, but he still didn’t budge. He wondered how long Michael would let him hover above him, to see if he could make Michael turn that cute shade of red.

 

“I think she’s gone,” Michael finally whispered. “But we should probably still be quiet. Thin walls.”

 

Rich nodded. “Sounds good,” he whispered back, his lisp a little more prominent with the quiet of his voice. “So,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t pinning Michael to the ground, “how was Ecuador?”

 

“Hot.” 

 

“I was asking about Ecuador, not me.”

 

Michael rolled his eyes. “It was beautiful, though. I mean, it was weird to be sweating in December, but it was beautiful. You should go there sometime.”

 

“You should take me there.”

 

Michael laughed, only a little nervous. “Are you flirting with me, Rich Goranski?”

 

Rich sucked in air through his teeth. “Damn, if you have to ask, I guess I must be doing a shitty job at it.”

 

At that confirmation, Michael felt his face get warm. “So, what made you decide to come over on a Wednesday night? After curfew?”

 

Rich would have shrugged if he wasn’t still propped up on his arms-- good thing he had gotten back to working out with Jake, though his arms were starting to feel sore from lifting himself up. “I wanted to see you, duh.”

 

Michael’s smile faded the slightest bit. It was still there, but there was hesitation behind it now. “Really? Even after the way I acted before I left?”

 

“I caught you off guard. I get it,” said Rich.

 

“It was more than that,” said Michael.

 

“I know,” said Rich, rolling off, finally. He propped himself onto his side, stretching his arms briefly. “And I get that, too.”

 

Michael didn’t seem convinced. 

 

“You’ve got history and shit with Jeremy, I get it. That’s not going to go away just because I got feelings for you.”

 

Michael sat up, and for the first time that night, Rich noticed that he’d walked in on Michael in his boxer briefs and a thin tshirt-- and he wasn’t hiding. He tried not to think anything of it, but even when Michael was comfortable, he still pulled a hoodie on to hide any extra shapes from Rich. 

 

“Anyway,” said Rich, still lying on his side, propped up on his elbow and looking up at Michael. “I thought I’d pop by, say ‘hey,’ welcome you back to the United States.”

 

“You could’ve done that tomorrow.”

 

“I could’ve.”

 

“And your dad? He’s not pissed you’re out this late?”

 

Rich ran a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t know I’m out. And, hey, if my gut or heart or whatever is telling me to show up at your window in negative ten degree weather, you bet your ass I’m showing up.”

 

Michael’s eyes widened. “Shit, Rich!” he whisper-yelled. “You’re wearing, like, thirteen different layers! How aren’t you dying?”

 

Rich looked down at himself, realizing that, oh right, he was. Granted the window was still open above them, so the cold air from outside was seeping in, but Michael was wearing so little and not shivering, so it must have been pretty warm in the room. “I mean it’s not like I sweat that much anymore because of the--” he gestured at the burn marks that came up on his neck and ears. 

 

Michael leaned over, unwrapping Rich’s scarf from around his neck. “Dude, you did  _ not _ survive a house fire and almost cooking yourself to death just to cook yourself in a million different jackets on my basement floor,” he said, laughing as he peeled away Rich’s hat and gloves, and started unbuttoning the outermost jacket. 

 

They both could feel the tension rising as Michael undid each button, his hands shaking the slightest bit, as Rich sat up to slide his jacket off, as Michael began pulling the sweater above Rich’s arms, until he was left in a thermal shirt, one a little too tight. 

 

They were both there on the basement floor, faces flushed and leaning towards each other, legs entangled. And, suddenly, Michael’s rose, one cupping Rich’s neck, the other on his cheek, and, for a second, he became hyperaware of everything in the room. The breeze from the window, the sound of snow still falling outside, the hum of the A/C, the short breaths coming from Rich. He felt the softness of his skin, the freckles his thumb had handed on, how the skin on his neck became rougher, webbed and veiny and a little off-color from the rest of his body, how cold he was all over. Michael could feel every particle of air, somehow. And, before his mind could register what his body was doing, the space between them quickly closed.

 

Michael was, for the record, a kissing virgin. The last time his lips had had any action was the time in second grade when he kissed Jeremy on the cheek on a dare. So, he was no expert, but he was pretty sure lips didn’t feel like this.

 

He opened his eyes, and wondered if a person could actually die from embarrassment as he realized that, oh God, he’d missed. His coordination as a person was so terrible he’d somehow managed to kiss the tip of Rich’s nose.

 

Michael fell back, his hands flying back to cover how red his face was. “Oh my God. _ Ohhhh _ my God. Oh my  _ God.”  _

 

Rich was trying to, politely, stifle his laughter, reaching up to smother his laughter with his hand. “Holy shit,” he whispered between chuckles.

 

“Oh my God,” Michael said as he got up from the floor, his hands still covering how bright red he’d gotten. 

 

“Dude, your parents are here,” said Rich, shushing Michael but unable to wipe the goofy grin on his face. 

 

Michael froze, turning toward Rich, still flustered. “I don’t know why I did that.”

 

Rich laughed. “Well, when a boy and a boy like each other  _ very _ much--”

 

“No, I mean, I don’t know why I tried to kiss you,” said Michael.

 

“Huh?” Rich’s smile didn’t falter, but he definitely looked confused now.

 

And, now, Michael felt pretty shitty. A part of him wondered if he was just trying to make excuses for messing up, or if he was afraid or something, that maybe this was him subconsciously trying to sabotage a good thing, but he heard himself saying, “I’m sorry.”

 

Rich stood up, clearly trying to brush it off. “I get it.”

 

Instantly, Michael regretted his words. He didn’t mean them, he knew. “Sorry, Rich, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

 

“No, I get it, Mikey,” said Rich, gathering his clothes off the floor and starting to pull the layers back on. “It’s okay.”

 

“No, it’s not. Stop acting like it is.” 

 

Rich shook his head in disbelief. “I should get back home before my dad realizes I snuck out.” He gave Michael an encouraging smile. Kind. “See you later, Mike. Let me know when you’re all settled in again and we can hang.”

 

Michael watched as Rich climbed on top the chair still perched against the wall and crawled through, waving bye as he closed the window behind him.

 

Michael was left alone with his thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!! every comment i get had been putting such a huge smile on my face, i wish i could like.. properly express how happy it makes me to see people enjoying this story!!
> 
> sorry about the rating change! i'm still deciding whether or not this story will end up being rated E based on how it's been progressing in my drafts, but with any sexual content, i'll be sure to put a warning in the chapter and let you know where it is so you can skip it if you'd like!


	11. at the end of jake's party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> major warning for description of a suicide attempt. it's not super graphic, but more described than past mentions of it in this fic. 
> 
> thanks again for reading!! i'll actually be putting the next chapter up super soon since it's pretty important to put right after this one.

Michael did good on his word and the next day had Jeremy over for a well-needed video game day. Slowly, but surely, they’d been able to hang out just the two of them at least once a month, and it wasn’t anywhere near the same as it used to be, but any progress was something to be grateful for. 

 

Michael could tell he was having an off day, and he could tell Jeremy knew. He just wasn’t focused, wasn’t cracking as many jokes as he usually did, and when he usually was slaughtering Jeremy in Smash, he’d lost for the third time in a row. 

 

Jeremy hit pause. “Michael, dude, you’re usually crushing it at this.” He turned to his friend. “What’s going on, still jet lagged?”

 

“Yeah, must be,” said Michael distractedly. Then, deciding since he’d already fucked up once this week, he might as well continue the streak, he said, “Actually, I think I’m kind of stuck in my head.”

 

Jeremy lowered his controller. “What about? Did something happen during your trip?”

 

“No, not during.”

 

“Before?”

 

“Yes? And after…”

 

Jeremy gave him a look. “Okay.”

 

“I think Rich tried to kiss me right before I left for Ecuador,” said Michael, facing the TV as if that could hide the blush creeping up on his face.

 

He didn’t need to see Jeremy’s face to imagine his expression. “Tried? You didn’t run away or anything, did you?”

 

“Kind of? I didn’t exactly let him, you know, do it.” Michael tossed his controller to the ground, sighing. “I can’t believe he’d still talk to me after that. I was a real ass.”

 

“I mean, what did you say to him? That you didn’t feel that way?”

 

“I didn’t have to. He could tell why, I guess.”

 

“You know that’s not your fault though, right Michael?” Jeremy put his hand on Michael’s shoulder, prompting him to look over. “You can’t help it if you don’t like him.”

 

“I think I do, though,” said Michael, surprising himself. 

 

Jeremy cocked his head to the side. “Okay… then why did you, like, reject him?”

 

At that question, Michael took a long look at Jeremy, at his best friend of thirteen years, who’d he’d been in love with since who knows when. Michael couldn’t even really remember when he’d realized he loved Jeremy, just that he did, and for  _ years _ there was nothing he wanted more than to have the taller boy all to himself. It was a daily struggle having to be with Jeremy, but not being able to be  _ with _ Jeremy. To walk beside him and not get to hold his hand. 

 

But, now, as Michael stared at Jeremy, he no longer felt that rush in his stomach. He used to look at Jeremy and see nothing but radiance, seeing how light always reflected against his soft, wavy hair, how long lashes framed his bright blue eyes, how beautiful the angles of his cheekbones rested on his long face. Now, he saw the same face, and, yes, Jeremy was still beautiful, but his hair was dull, kind of greasy, actually. There was nothing radiant about his eyes, they were just eyes. There was warmth in Jeremy’s face and smile, and the way a crease had formed in between his brows as he questioned Michael, but the warmth was platonic, now. 

 

“I guess,” said Michael finally, “because of you.”

 

Jeremy’s face became more confused, and defensive at the accusation. “Because of me? What did I do?” 

 

“Nothing,” said Michael. “But I think Rich just knew that when I couldn’t let him kiss me, it was because of you.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense, Michael,” said Jeremy, definitely getting defensive now. “I’ve never said anything bad about Rich-- I didn’t even know you  _ liked _ him!”

 

“I didn’t know I liked him either! I just figured it out, like, yesterday!”

 

“Then how the hell am I the reason?!”

 

“Because I was in love with you!” 

 

Jeremy’s wall of defense crumbled real fast. “You-- what?”

 

Michael felt his face burning up, but he kept on. “Because I was in love with you, but you’ve never seen me as anything other than your best friend, which is fine by the way! But I was so  _ stuck _ on you, and Rich knew it, and I knew it, and until I told you everything, I was never going to be able to move on.”

 

Jeremy took it in. “How long?” 

 

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Since freshman year, I guess.”

 

“Michael, that’s four years. You never told me.” He bit his lip. “We used to tell each other everything. And you never told me.”

 

“How was I supposed to tell you? You were head over heels for Christine, and my best friend. If I told you, and it made things weird? What then?” Michael waited for a response, but Jeremy was speechless, so Michael kept going, trying to keep down the nerves in his stomach that were threatening to shut him up. “And there’s something else I haven’t told you about. And I need to. But I need you to-- to not say anything, okay?”

 

Jeremy nodded, the concern on his face plain to see. 

 

Michael took in a breath to steady himself, stuffing his shaking hands into his pocket. “Last year, when you had the squip--  _ please _ don’t say anything, Jeremy. I know it wasn’t you. It was the squip. I know that, I swear. But when you had the squip… I was so hurt. I didn’t have anyone but you, Jeremy. You were  _ everything. _ You weren’t my favorite person, you were my only person. A-And I know now-- I know that was, like, really unhealthy and super unfair for you, but then you got the squip, and you just turned me off. It was like you didn’t even see me, like I was invisible. Like twelve years meant  _ nothing. _ ” Michael took another breath, sniffing and trying his hardest not to start crying, but tears had already started welling up as he stared into Jeremy’s eyes. “Like _ I’d  _ meant nothing.”

 

Michael wiped his face on his hoodie sleeve. “I went to Jake’s party. I hate parties. I hate the so fucking much. The music’s always shit, and everyone is already friends with each other and getting drunk and high and having sex, and no one even knows me because I’m just the loser junior, and the one person who’s always been there for me suddenly thought I was a loser, too, and probably hated me and was just going to leave and I was going to be alone forever because if not even  _ you _ could stand to be with me forever then who would and…” Michael bit back a sob. He felt himself shaking violently, and it took him a few moments to get himself to a place where he could talk without his voice quivering uncontrollably. 

 

“That night,” he started, “I went home. I left right before the fire, and I went home. And-- And I got in my car, and I drove home, and I’m driving home, and I’m thinking the whole time, why am I still driving? Why aren’t I crashing into a tree or into the Delaware river or into a truck or something? So I… merged to the other side of the road. And it’s 2 am, so no one’s on the road, and I’m just waiting for a car or something to come by so I can swerve into the forest or something, and then this deer comes out from nowhere. And, you know, I’m not about to make this poor deer become roadkill just because I feel like it’s my time to go. So I… swerved. And my car went right into the wooded area by the road, right along Route 95, just before Baker Street. And I didn’t hit anything. My car just got stuck there in the empty lot of dirt where they cleared out the woods to start building a gas station and…” Michael sniffled, realizing he’d stopped shaking, though calm tears were still falling down his face. He’d been staring at his hands in his lap for a while, not wanting to see what Jeremy’s face looked like 

 

“This couple stopped and helped me push my car back on the road at, like, 2 am. And I drove home. And then I went to sleep. And… I know it wasn’t you, Jeremy. Or, it was you, but it wasn’t really you. It was you with this leech attached to your brain that was making you do all that, and I get that. So it wasn’t your fault, what I-- what I did. You didn’t make me do it. But it happened, and I… never got to tell you. So, here’s me telling you. That I was-- I was really  _ hurt _ , Jeremy. And I’m so much better, I swear to God, I’d never even think about doing something like that again, but… I’m still hurt. And I need you to know.”

 

With a sigh, Michael signalled that he was done, that he has purged out every thought he’d held deep inside his chest for over a year. He stared at his hands, him and Jeremy’s breathing the only sound in the room for a while. When Michael took a steadying breath and tried to look up at his best friend, he couldn’t get a glance in before he was enveloped in an embrace. 


	12. it's all clean and crisp and pure and happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii okay i know i JUST posted the last chapter ummmm like five minutes ago but then this fic got 100 kudos and idk im sure thats not a lot in the grand scheme of things but i AM SO HAPPY WOW!!!! yall this is so cool, thank you to every single person who has read a single sentence of this fic, thank you to every person who has clicked or left kudos and THANK YOU TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE SUBSCRIBED!!! I SEE YOU!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!! and thank you to every person who comments because reading comments has so quickly become my favorite thing of the day, they make me so happy to see people actually liking this story and i get so happy to see some people coming back chapter after chapter and sticking through this storyline it just all makes me so HAPPY SO THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!!!!
> 
> it doesn't end here :')

“...And then he hugged me,” said Michael, just barely swinging on the swingset. His feet were more or less dragging on the ground, and he was more rocking back and forth on the swing than doing any actual swinging.

 

Rich, though he usually was the one to be constantly swinging or fidgeting or being high energy in general, was sitting pretty still. It was a little out of character for him. “What happened after that?”

 

Michael shrugged. “We didn’t really talk that much after that. I mean, we did. He kind of explained a little about what exactly the squip made him do, and how it would, like, literally cut me out of his sight sometimes. And then--” he laughed a little, light and carefree, almost out-of-place with the story he’d been telling Rich, “he just went, ‘you  _ were _ in love with me?’ Like he wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to try and make a move on him now.”

 

“And what’d you say?” There was a tinge of hope in Rich’s voice, and Michael couldn’t have missed it. 

 

“I told him I’d gotten over him a while ago.” Michael’s smile was shy at first, but he sat up on the swing, swaying lightly again. “It took me way too long to figure it out, but all the things I was feeling for Jeremy, I stopped feeling a while ago. I guess I didn’t notice because they’d just transferred onto someone else.” 

 

Rich raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You finally realize you’ve actually been in love with Dustin Kroff?”

 

“Oh, yeah, Dustin Kroff’s the one for me,” joked Michael, grinning. “I guess it was just something about those brown eyes of his, you know?”

 

“Yeah?” Dustin Kroff had green eyes, and both boys knew it. 

 

“Oh, yeah. I just can’t get enough of his freckles either. Or the gap between his teeth.”

 

“Oh, really?” asked Rich, slowly inching his swing to the side. 

 

Michael nodded. “I guess I’ve always had a thing for shorter guys, anyway.”

 

Rich laughed. “I-- He’s not that short! 5’5 is average height, man!”

 

“But I’m still five inches taller,” gloated Michael. “Plus, his lisp is pretty cute.”

 

“Cute? Really? I think Dustin would argue his lisp is the sexiest thing about him.”

 

“I might agree.” At this point, Rich had brought his swing over next to Michael’s and they were inches away from each other. 

 

“So, you think he’s hot. Pretty shallow, Mell,” said Rich, his voice low. 

 

Michael stared at his lips, at the freckles dotting along his jaw, his skin rosy from the winter outside. Both were bundled up tight sitting outside at a park on a January night, but they could still feel each other’s warmth radiating from the other. “I like other things about him, too.”

 

“Hmm?” hummed Rich.

 

“He’s funny, for starters. Kind. He was there for me when I was a mess, and he’s still stuck around. He’s always known exactly what to say,” said Michael.

 

Rich scoffed. “You’re giving him too much credit.”

 

“I don’t give him enough.” Michael shook his head, his smile having not left his face. “And he’s patient.”

 

Rich scoffed again. “Really? Patient? You’ve seen him waiting in line for donuts at Krispy Kreme, Mikey. He practically dies whenever he has to wait more than five seconds for something. You really think he’s patient?”

 

“He waited for me to get my act together and realize I have feelings for him,” said Michael, his tone more serious. “And I don’t think most people would have.”

 

“Well, you’re someone worth waiting for, Mikey.” And, suddenly, there was warmth on Michael’s lips as Rich filled the space between them. It was freezing around them, ice reaching his bones, but the warmth from Rich spread throughout his entire body. Nothing mattered except Rich, the softness of his lips against Michael’s, the feeling of his hands pressed against the small of Michael’s back, and everything he felt in that moment was gentle. Clean. Perfect.

 

Rich pulled back, and Michael found himself embarrassingly following the lips that left him, before realizing it was over and leaning back, blushing. 

 

Neither could wipe the stupid grins on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it doesn't end here :) thank you guys so much again for reading, it seriously means the world to me!!


	13. good shit.

Red and pink and white covered the halls of Middleborough High. Streamers were hanging from the ceiling, the walls plastered with Prom posters, paper hearts and decor. February’s winter was milder than previous years, or maybe it just felt that way because of the now constant warm feeling that occupied the pit of Michael’s stomach. 

 

After that night at the park, Michael had a near constant fluttering in his chest. He felt like he was going to pass out all the time from how stupidly giddy he was all the time, and it didn’t help that it was officially Love Month. 

 

And oh, boy was he bitten by the love bug. 

 

“Yo, Michael,” he heard Jeremy say, snapping Michael out of another day dream. 

 

“Hmm?” He turned around in his desk. They were supposed to be in the middle of study hall, but no one actually studied in study hall. Especially not when a certain someone’s girlfriend was off on at state thespian competition and only had their best friend to keep them company while they were supposed to be going through math. 

 

“Are you  _ high _ ?” whispered Jeremy, and Michael immediately laughed. “Holy shit. You’re totally high. I knew it. I thought you stopped coming to school high sophomore year, Michael!”

 

“Dude, you need to chill out, I’m not high,” whispered back Michael. 

 

“You’ve been super weird for weeks, man,” said Jeremy. “Care to explain?”

 

It wasn’t a secret, but the moment in the park felt so personal, something that could just be between Rich and Michael and no one else. And it wasn’t, like, lying not to tell anyone about it. It wasn’t like they were dating or anything, they just kissed every now and then during movie marathons and drives to seven eleven, but that was about it. It was nice. Casual. 

 

“Just had a lot on my mind,” said Michael finally, shrugging. “Or someone on my mind.”

 

Jeremy immediately understood who. “Eugh,” he said playfully. 

 

Michael lightly shoved Jeremy’s shoulder. “Asshole. I listened to you swoon over Christine for three years when I was in love with you, you gotta return the favor and listen to me talk about him as much as I want.”

 

Jeremy shifted in his seat, looking vaguely uncomfortable with Michael casually bringing up his past feelings, but covered it up by laughing again. “Okay, okay, that’s fair.”

 

The bell rang, the both boys picked up their books and headed towards Michael's locker first. “It’s no big, anyway. We’re friends, and I like it that way.”

 

“You don’t want to, you know, date?” asked Jeremy, standing next to Michael as he dropped his bag inside his locker and locked it shut. 

 

Michael shrugged as they headed towards the gym locker room. “Sure, of course. But I kind of messed things up for a while with the whole taking twelve years to return his feelings. I get it if he doesn’t want to, you know, jump into anything with me.”

 

They went through the locker room doors, going to their lockers in an isolated corner where there was a silent rule that that corner was for Michael and Jeremy to change only. It had started when they were loser freshman and no one wanted to change next to them in case they caught the “geek”, but now that they were relatively popular, it was out of habit and respect for Jeremy, who was too shy to change in front of anyone but Michael, and Michael, who also got too nervous changing in front of others for the obvious reasons. 

 

Michael pulled his hoodie and shirt over his head, leaving him in his binder in their isolated corner while Jeremy stood in front of him, covering him just in case. They were in public now, and both knew as soon as they walked through the doors that any conversation about Rich had to stop, since Rich could walk in at any moment. “So, when’s Christine coming back?”

 

Jeremy pulled on his gym shorts, turning to Michael. “She should be back next week, just in time for Valentine’s day.”

 

“You’re gonna take her out, right?” said Michael, putting his jeans off and reaching for his shorts.

 

“Duh! Geez, Michael, I’m not  _ that _ clueless about girls anymore,” said Jeremy, laughing. 

 

“‘Anymore,’” emphasized Michael, and the two boys, now dressed, walked down the hall and into the gymnasium.

 

“Pair up, we’re starting our dance unit today,” they heard the coach yell as soon as they walked in, and Michael heard Jeremy grumble about Christine being gone again as Jenna plucked him away, and Michael, sighing, walked toward the rest of the students, looking for a girl to pair up with.

 

“Looks like we’re the last two left unpaired,” he heard a voice say, and Michael couldn’t help the smile that immediately appeared. “And you better appreciate it. I had to tell Brooke to find another partner, and she’s pissed she’s stuck with one of the band geeks.”

 

“What a sacrifice,” said Michael, turning to Rich. “I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you later.”

 

“Maybe after class?” asked Rich, and before Michael could reply, the coach was instructing the class. Ballroom dancing, which would’ve been a complete nightmare is Michael wasn’t currently the luckiest guy in the room. They had been the odd ones out, two guys paired up because of the imbalance in genders in the class, but Rich took one for the team and, mostly because he was shorter and didn’t want to make Michael uncomfortable, he placed a hand on Michael's shoulder. 

 

The music started, and Michael quickly put a hand on the small of Rich’s back,  effortlessly falling into step-- thank you years of having to learn dancing for the dozens of quinceaneras he’d had to attend. Rich wasn’t too bad on his feet, either. He wasn’t graceful, but he wasn’t stepping on Michael’s feet, and they were able to keep up with each other. They fell into an easy rhythm, and Michael could see in his peripheral Jeremy shoot a friendly death glare-- they hadn’t been best friends for thirteen years not to develop telepathic powers, and Michael couldn’t help but laugh at Jeremy shoot him a “how dare you be gross and sappy with your boy when my girlfriend is on the other side of New Jersey?”

 

Michael’s hand felt right. Like it was made to fit into the curve at the small of Rich’s back. 

 

\--

 

“So I found this super old game I thought you might like,” said Rich as they walked down the stairs to Michael’s basement. “It’s, like, ancient, man. My buddy was able to do some nerd shit and transfer it to, like, a CD for the computer or some shit like that, and I thought maybe you’d like it.”

 

He handed Michael an unmarked CD case. It looked like it’d have a million viruses, but Rich looked really impatient for him to put the CD into his desktop, so he did so. He sat at his desk, Rich standing behind him, as the game loaded up on his computer.

 

Michael looked back at Rich, not recognizing the images popping up. It was super simplistic, but seemed to have been created on a modern animation modeling program. “What’d you say this game was called again?”

 

“Just play it,” said Rich, and Michael instantly knew something was up. He had that look on his face whenever he lied. Rich was a terrible liar. 

 

“Okay…” Said Michael turning forward. “I don’t know how this can be fun for you when you’re just watching me play, but okay, weirdo,” he joked, pressing the arrows on his keyboard, testing out the game. It didn’t really have any instructions or storyline, just a little green character walking through a dark, black room.

 

The farther he ventured through the room, the more hallways he took, the lighter the game got. He didn’t realize how much he’d been squinting to find exits and hallways until they were much easier to find. He followed through each tunnel, not really getting the appeal of the game, but Rich looked too happy to watch him playing. Michael guessed he was just happy to see have given a good gift, and Michael wasn’t about to ruin that by asking what the point of this was. 

 

Finally, the green character entered a bright room, completely white. It was almost hurting his eyes, and Michael found himself squinting, moving the green character deeper into the room, until it finally came upon a little red box. Box? Another simple red character. He figured the point was to interact with the only other object in the room. 

 

As the green character approached the red one, Michael heard shuffling behind him, but his eyes stayed on the screen. A text box appeared at the bottom, plain black lettering that Michael read out loud. 

 

“Stop running around and be my date to…” Michael read in a low voice, confused. “Hey, Rich, I’m confused again. Is this the end?” he asked, this time turning around in his chair.

 

And then it clicked as Michael saw Rich, flowers in one hand, and holding up a poster board with the other. He was on one knee, smirking (of course), and it didn’t take long for Michael to read the single word written on the poster board: “Prom?”

 

“So, what do you say? And before you decide, you should know I paid some nerd 40 bucks to teach me how to make that thing, so you better appreciate how shitty it was,” said Rich.

 

“You made that?” Rich nodded, and Michael nervously laughed. “That explains that.”

 

“So?” Rich held up the poster board again. “How ‘bout it, Mikey? Will you go to prom with me?”

 

Rich stood up as Michael lept up from his chair, wrapping his arms around Rich’s torso. Michael didn’t even need to say “yes.” The confirmation was in the kiss to Rich’s lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back in the first few chapters, Ellie_Laurens gave me the idea for the beginning of this chapter with a dance unit in gym, and i 100% stole it. thanks again bud, it was a cute idea!!
> 
> thanks again for reading guys!


	14. feeling. feeling. felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! this chapter contains some uhhh not super graphic smut, but like.. its there. just as a fair warning, and while its important to the story, its not super plot-driven, so if you're uncomfortable reading any of it, you can feel free to skip this chapter and know you're not missing anything. this chapter is also pretty short because of that, since i want to keep the plot separate for anyone who wants to skip over sexual content.
> 
> Also I wrote this at like 4 am so I apologize if it's a little rough
> 
> as always, thank you so much for reading!! all the kudos and comments seriously make my day! we're almost to the end of this fic, and im so happy to be able to share the end of my first fic in 6 years with you guys!!

Michael pretty quickly learned he wasn’t one for PDA. He always felt too nervous when Rich would give him a chaste kiss on the cheek at his locker, and cuddling up next to each other during lunch made Michael feel like the kind of couple that he always made fun of. Rich on the other hand, lived for it all. He was always careful not to do anything that made Michael uncomfortable, but he’d gotten into the habit of saying “my boyfriend, Mikey” at least eight times a day, and he always felt a rush of joy whenever Michael’s hoodie shifted to reveal the dark bruises on his neck left from nights before. It hadn’t taken either of them long at all to find the right balance to satisfy them both.

 

With March, though, came the realities of the future. College acceptances came way, and Michael found himself with a scholarship to a university up in New Brunswick, while Rich had decided to grab his A.A. at the community college in Middleborough to save up money. It was a solid three hours between both cities, and they had both silently agreed not to think too much about the future past graduation. They would enjoy each other for the moment.

 

And, oh, boy, was Michael enjoying every moment. 

The thing was, at eighteen years old, Michael had been on testosterone for two whole years. He'd gotten to a point where he was used to all the changes that had rapidly occurred in the first year, and now it felt like his body was just being maintained by his weekly injections, instead of being changed by them. Still, there were a couple of things he was still getting used to, even two years later. He always found himself shocked at how easily angry and frustrated he got, and the constant acne that covered his face down to his back was still unsettling. Worst, though, was the increased sex drive. 

When he was fourteen, he had a hard time understanding Jeremy and his constant jacking off, and how it seemed like every two seconds he was thinking about sex. Then Michael went through "male puberty," and he suddenly understood.

 

Having Rich around was not helping, either.

 

"Dude, my mom's right upstairs," said Michael, though he wasn't exactly dodging at Rich climbed on top of him, lips at the base of his neck. 

 

"You know I'm always quiet," said Rich in between kisses to Michael's throat. "You on the other hand..."

 

He bit back a noise that threatened to escape as Rich bit at his skin. "That's what I'm worried about... she going to figure out pretty soon that we're not just playing video games."

 

Rich gave a last opened mouth kiss before pulling up to reach Michael's lips, no hesitation as they moved against each other, hands in hair and cupping each other's faces. They were a tangle of limbs pressed up against each other, vaguely moving to the tempo of whatever music had popped up on shuffle. Michael couldn't even focus on the song, he was a puddle of desperation and wanting to close the spaces floating between him and Rich. His hands roamed from the back of Rich's head, skimming the rough patches of scar tissue on his neck, down his arms, to his chest. He felt like his bones had disappeared, and Michael understood the expression finally, because he was putty in Rich's hands. Rich's hands, which were doing roaming of their own. From cupping his face, Rich's hands fell down, just barely floating above his chest, tracing his sides through his shirt, down to rest on Michael's hips. 

 

He pulled back for a moment, looking up at Rich, whose face was equally as flush, but who looked a ton calmer than Michael felt. Rich, after all, had years of experience fooling around. Michael had had his first kiss only a month before. Having the guy he's head over heels with pressing against his hips was causing his mind to go blank. He couldn't think in words anymore, just sensations. He didn't even really hear what Rich asked, just knew that he wanted to nod, wanted to experience whatever Rich was offering up. 

 

He didn't think in words anymore. Just sensations. Just feeling. The cool of the air on his bare skin as Rich pulled his shorts down, Rich's finger tips against his legs, eventually his rough hands gripping at the inside of his thighs. Michael couldn't even think about feeling naked and vulnerable in front of Rich. His mind was too preoccupied with the feather light touches against him, instinctively spreading his legs from underneath Rich. Hot air from Rich's breath tickled in his ear, whispers he couldn't make out because his brain was too preoccupied with every time Rich's thumb brushed against his enlarged nub. 

 

If he died right now, with Rich's middle finger lightly pressing against him, he'd die so fucking happy. 

 

He found himself gasping, his eyes snapping open as Rich pressed into him. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any noises that could float through the ceiling and make his mom suspicious-- ugh. Not the time to think about your mom, Michael. 

 

He couldn't describe the feeling if someone had given him a dictionary. Just warmth, flames that spread throughout his abdomen. He found he couldn't control the way his hips bucked, the way the muscles in his legs tightened, the way his breath hitched as Rich added another finger. There was a slight discomfort, and for a second Michael became acutely aware of himself, how exposed he was, the obscene sounds of Rich's fingers against a body part that wasn't supposed to be there reminding him of why he'd never ventured down there himself -- but it was soon replaced by another flash of heat, of feeling only Rich, Rich's hands, Rich's soft hair, Rich's sweaty forehead. He could only hear the sound of his own heartbeat, in tempo with Rich's mewling and heavy breathing. 

 

And then he felt everything at once. For a moment, Michael wondered if this is how the universe was created: just a burst of energy, blinding and intense and all over. If at the end of the big bang (haha), the creator of the universe, whoever they were, looked up and saw a freckled face, flush with desire, staring down at them with nothing but love in their eyes. 


	15. prom

Rich had borrowed his brother's car to drive over at five, plenty of enough time for Michael's parents to take as many pictures as they wanted before they drove over to prom. It wasn't as nice as Michael's PT Cruiser, but they'd agreed to skip out on the limo Jenna had gotten for their "squad." Prom was making Michael nervous as-is. Arriving in a beat up ford was supposed to help with that, and Rich hoped that was true. While Michael insisted he was happy to go to prom, that he wanted to go, Rich knew that parties were rough for him. Michael had tried only a few times to join Rich to a party on Saturday, only to anxious and end up complaining about the music and wanting to leave early. They just weren't his scene.

 

So, there was some pressure to make sure prom would a good time. Rich walked up to the front porch, taking a breath of confidence as he knocked. He could feel himself already sweating in his suit, feeling stiff and confined by it. He wasn't used to wearing this many layers or looking so nice, but Jake refused to have his best bro looking anything other than his best at prom, and had personally taken Rich out to get fitted for a simple black tux, a solid red tie, nice shoes with _laces_ , and about a million different products to slick back his hair. He felt like a dweeb, and he probably looked like a dweeb.

 

When the door opened, his nerves only jolted as he smiled and shook Michael's parents' hands. He'd met them briefly plenty of times when they were home, but, like, they were  _never_ home, so it all felt so shallow. He could feel a twinge of tension now, too. Before, the few times he'd spoken with either of the Mell parents had been friendly and pleasant. They seemed pleased that Michael had another friend other than Jeremy. But two weeks ago, after a month and a half of doing whatever they were doing (dating? Seeing each other? Being best friends who make out and occasionally give each other blow jobs?), Michael had told his parents that he and Rich were going to prom together as dates. And now, Rich wasn't allowed in his room without a third friend (usually Jeremy) there, and  _certainly_ not with the door closed. They'd even made a rule about Rich not being allowed in the house without a parent present, though he and Michael never followed that. Two horny teenage boys  _not_ taking advantage of an empty house to hook up? In _this_ economy?

 

Thank God Michael was just about ready. As Rich was welcomed into their home, he got scared that he'd have to face that scene that happens in every shitty teen movie where the guy has to sit in the living room alone with their date's parents for ten minutes while their date finishes putting on their face. If he had to make small talk with the Mell parents for more than two seconds, he probably would have just shit himself and died. 

 

But it wasn't even minute before he heard the door to the basement open, and Michael walk through. And... wow. That moment in every shitty teen movie where the date finally shows up and looks amazing, and the guy stands up and just stares because they can't believe they're taking someone so  _perfect_  to prom? Yeah. That was Rich. 

 

Michael rolled his eyes as he saw Rich's jaw drop, blushing. "Shut up."

 

"I didn't say anything," said Rich, not bothering to hide his expression as he eyed Michael up and down. If there was any doubt in his mind that he wasn't actually attracted to guys, it was sure gone now. Michael was a goddamn snack in his fitted suit, his hair perfectly styled, holding a box in his hand. 

 

"Doesn't matter, I can hear your corny thoughts radiating from your mind," Michael replied, opening the box in his hand, revealing the two sets of flowers. Red. It somehow matched the streak in Rich's hair perfectly, and there was something entrancing about Michael's fingers pinning flowers to Rich's lapel. The innocent act felt charged. Rich couldn't figure out why.

 

They gazed into each other's eyes and grinned stupidly, feeling like the only two people in the world as Rich moved to pin the other set of flowers to Michael, only to be interrupted by the sound of a camera clicking, and, then, all too suddenly, they were brought back to reality. 

 

\--

 

Michael had been fidgeting the whole ride to school. When he wasn't wringing his hands, he was playing with the buttons on his vest, or fingering his tie. It was expected, but Rich felt powerless, not knowing how exactly to fix the situation. When they parked, and Rich didn't immediately turn off the car, Michael looked at him expectantly. 

 

"Are we too early?" asked Michael, trying to pretend like he wasn't freaking the fuck out. Michael might've been a hell of a better liar than Rich was, but he still had his tells. One of them being how he wouldn't stop trying to occupy his hands, like, if his hands weren't doing something, he'd explode.

 

"No, we're good. They opened the doors ten minutes ago," said Rich. "We can wait, if you want."

 

"What?"

 

"We can just chill here for a while if you need to."

 

Michael laughed that stunted laugh he always laughed whenever he was being a dirty liar. "It's completely fine, Rich. C'mon. Let's go. Everyone's probably waiting."

 

Before Rich could protest, Michael had already hopped out of the car, and Rich figured he might as well follow. By the time he'd turned off the engine and locked the car, Michael was halfway to the front doors. 

 

Rich half-jogged to catch up, grabbing hold of Michael's sweaty hand as he did. Yeah, Michael was definitely freaking out inside. His hands hadn't been this sweaty since the first time Rich had grabbed onto it back in February. "You know we'll probably look cooler if we're fashionably late."

 

"We're already fashionably late. I thought you said the doors opened ten minutes ago."

 

"Yeah, but..." Rich stopped them, just at the bottom of the steps, and turned to face Michael. He grabbed hold of his tie, smirking as he adjusted it. "We could always come back a little later. We have all night, Mikey. No harm if we just sneak back to my car and fool around for a while, right?" he asked suggestively. 

 

Michael looked like he was about to sprint back to the car, but just as he opened his mouth, they heard a familiar voice squealing about them getting a room.

 

The bubble around them burst as they sighed, in unison saying, "Jenna." 

 

And then Jenna pulled in between them, linking her arms around theirs and leading them up the stairs as the gabbed about how nice they looked, how she was so going to tweet about this later, and something about some rumor floating around that, honestly? Rich had started to block out. He didn't give a shit about anything except that Michael was clearly nervous as they walked through the doors, and wasn't right next to him.

 

\--

 

Michael didn't have time to be nervous at prom. As soon as he walked through the doors, he was surrounded by his friends-- people he never would have expected to be so close to, and it took the better part of the year, but when he sat down at the table, he looked at the smiles on everyone's faces, and he felt, actually... kind of comfortable. The music playing was still garbage, and he still felt a little weird around so many people, but he wasn't shaking the way he normally did. He didn't feel like he was going to throw up the whole time. 

 

A lot of his anxiety around parties was that Michael was and always assumed he'd be a loser no one cared about. At school with Jeremy, it was easier to ignore that and come to accept his status as a loser. At parties, though, it was hard to ignore. The isolation was just confirmation that if he were to vanish, no one would care. 

 

But people would. They would care. And Michael saw the evidence of it in Brooke's face as she rushed over to take a selfie with Michael. She wanted a picture, a memory, to prove her friendship with Michael. And Jake, patting him on the back as they saw each other, immediately sitting next to him and complaining about how Rich only talked about Michael when they went out to parties anymore and it was a real drag with chicks. Funnily enough, Christine had been the first one to drag him out to the dance floor after complaining that Jeremy kept stepping on his feet, and he found himself. At a high school dance. Dancing. Surrounded by people he thought had hated him for four years of high school, only to find out that he'd, somehow, become cool before college.

 

The night was a blur of dancing and eating and drinking and laughing every time Jeremy danced weird. It was lighthearted the whole night, surrounded by so any faces he'd come to love, and it felt like the night didn't last nearly as long as it should have. In no time, prom court was announced (Jake and Chloe had a weird moment as they were crowned, having long gotten over each other. Plus, Chloe and Brooke had been getting a little cuddly all night. Michael wasn't one to assume, but as a Grade A Gay, well...) and the DJ told the gym of students that there'd only be two songs left. And it felt like it hadn't been enough time. Michael wanted the night to go on forever, to stay in this perfect moment where he looked good, where all his friends looked good, where everyone was smiling and enjoying themselves and nothing was awful. For four hours on a Saturday night on his senior year, everything was perfect. 

 

"Hey," he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning around and seeing Rich come up behind him. They hadn't really had a moment to themselves, or maybe they had, but Michael's head was just buzzing and nothing felt solid or real. "Last dance is coming up." Rich extended out his hand. "Care to join me?"

 

Michael was pulled away by Rich, back out to the dance floor, just as the song changed. A slow song with gentle guitar started playing, something Michael didn't recognize, but it didn't matter. He wrapped his arms around Rich's waist, and the two fell together like two puzzle pieces, like they had been made to fit in with the curve of each other's body. They stepped lazily, not really caring about matching the tempo of the song, or dancing well, or anything. Like that moment in Michael's basement months ago, they just stared at each other, silent, but saying everything through their gazes.  _I get it. I get you. I can't believe I've got you._  

 

For a moment in time, the already perfect night full of energy had come to a stand still, and the moment was perfect for another reason. It was, for once, just Michael and Rich, joined together, holding each other, swaying softly to their own heart beats. It was good. It was all good.

 

"Hey," he heard Rich whisper in his ear. 

 

"Hey," he whispered back, leaning down to Rich. 

 

He didn't need to lean too much before Rich closed the gap between them and kissed him. "I love you."

 

The song ended, and the world rushing back around them. They were back at prom, surrounded by their class, by their friends, by teachers who weren't getting paid enough to chaperone, and the party was over. 

 

But Michael didn't miss a beat. He didn't even hesitate as he returned the kiss, and mumbled against Rich's lips, "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for reading, as always i appreciate it so so so much! and i apologize for not having updated yesterday btw! the last chapter should definitely be up tomorrow as scheduled <3 
> 
> theres only one chapter left, and it will probably be very short, but im super excited to write some new expensive headphones stories! i just have to think up the ideas haha
> 
> also there's like a sudden influx of expensive headphones on tumblr and it is LIT
> 
> again, thank you so much for reading!! i have loved writing this story and getting to read all your comments, thank you so much for all your love!!


	16. finale

Graduation had been long, and kind of boring, actually. It was cool cheering on all his friends as they grabbed their diplomas, and getting to receive his own wasn’t too bad, either, but Rich understood what one of teachers had said when they’d told the graduating class “Graduation isn’t for you, it’s for your parents.” Well, sort of. His own dad didn’t give a shit. He’d nearly forgotten it was today. But Rich was lucky enough that he saw the pride in his friends’ parents. Jake’s grandparents had even brought him flowers, and he’d received a hug from most of his friends’ moms, who congratulated him, even though he was the only one out of the group not heading to some fancy university. 

 

It didn’t matter. Graduation was over, and everyone was heading to their own futures, and Rich logically should have been bummed the fuck out about it, but… If all of them could survive squips, they could survive staying friends past high school. 

 

“My mom wants a picture of us before we go,” said Michael, who hadn’t let go of Rich’s hand since they’d left the auditorium. “I’m supposed to meet her in half an hour.”

 

Rich held them back from the rest of the group, who had gone to be congratulated by Dustin Kroff’s family. “A whole thirty minutes until you’re whisked away to your family and I don’t get to see ever again,” he said, always with the flair for dramatics.

 

“We still have the summer before I move,” said Michael, rolling his eyes playfully. 

 

“How am I supposed to manage these 17 hours before I’ll be able to see your face again, Mikey?” 

 

Michael led them to the entrance of the school again, sneaking a look to find an abandoned hallway somewhere. “I guess I could give you your graduation present now, since you’re being so impatient.”

 

“Ooh, a gift?” Rich raised an eyebrow, allowing himself to be led into an empty classroom. 

 

“Just something to hold you over until tomorrow.” And, with that, they snuck into the classroom, locking the door behind them. 

 

\--

 

“Michael!” Jeremy waved them over as he saw them emerge from the school doors. He half-jogged over, tugging on Michael’s robe. “Dude, your mom has been looking for you for, like, ten minutes. We all thought you got abducted or something.”

 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” said Michael, running a hand through his hair. “We just, uh, lost track of time.”

 

Jeremy looked between the two of them, noticing how Rich was still catching his breath, looking vaguely more disheveled than usual. It didn’t take him long to connect his sloppily buckled belt and Michael’s flushed face-- and especially flushed lips. 

 

“Oh my God.” Jeremy’s eyes widened, and Rich had the biggest shit-eating grin on the planet. “At  _ graduation? _ At  _ school? _ Oh my God. Really, guys?”

 

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before at schoo--”

 

“Shut up.” Jeremy cut Rich off. “Oh my God. I don’t want to know.”

 

Michael hid his face behind his hands, though he couldn’t feel too embarrassed. He was still riding off his high and trying to stop looking suspiciously like he’d just given a blowjob five minutes earlier before he had to meet up with his family. 

 

“I don’t know why you’re so upset, Jer-Bear,” said Rich, crossing his arms and looking way too smug. “It’s not like you’ll ever step foot in Chem class again after today.”

 

“In Chemistry?! With flammable materials?” Jeremy stammered, looking like he wanted to die right then and there. “Oh my God. Please never tell me anything ever again.” He turned to Michael, who was still trying to hide the embarrassment on his face. “Man, seriously, your mom’s about to burst a blood vessel. You should head over there soon.”

 

“Right, yeah, I will,” said Michael, taking a breath and hoping the sin had washed off his face-- at least, enough for his parent not to have caught on to why he’d been late. “See you later, Jeremy?”

 

He grimaced, shaking head head and he started walking backwards. “Later, Michael.” 

 

When he was out of earshot, Rich burst into laugher, bending over from how much his stomach hurt from laughing. He should have been mortified, but Michael found himself laughing, too. He’d forgotten for a second that he was supposed to be hauling ass over to the parking lot to his parents, or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he was just trying to soak up every last second he could with Rich. The reality that they had only three months together was truly settling in, and, suddenly, three months felt like nothing. 

 

He could see on Rich’s face that he’d realized the same thing. 

 

“I guess I better go,” said Michael, not looking away. 

 

“Probably,” said Rich. 

 

Neither moved, not for a while. And then when Michael felt his pocket buzz, and saw a text from his mom wondering where he was, he still didn’t move for a moment. Not until after he leaned down to place a sweet, short kiss to Rich’s lips. He moved to walk away, only to feel a hand stop him, grabbing him by the arm. 

 

“I really should go now, Rich,” said Michael, turning around for a moment. 

 

“You should,” said Rich. “But I want to ask you something first.”

 

Michael knew he was doing a poor job at showing the concern on his face. “Okay.”

 

Luckily, Rich just smiled. “Relax, Mikey, babe. I’ve just been thinking.”

 

“A dangerous activity.”

 

“Rude. I’ve been thinking about how we’ve been doing this--” he gestured vaguely between the two of them “--for a while. And I’m not complaining, I like how we’ve been. I love how we’ve been. Shit, I love  _ you _ , Mikey, and I know we’re going to completely different places in three months, but I don’t see why that should be a problem, right? I mean--”

 

“Rich.”

 

“Michael.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Why, Mr. Goranski… are you trying to ask me to go steady with you?”

 

Rich laughed, joking as he said, “Fuck you, Mikey.”

 

He leaned over again to give another kiss, this one longer, less gentle, more words behind it than earlier. Rich got his answer.

 

“Fuck you, too, Rich.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i believe this is the shortest chapter of this fic, but it's here! the ending!!
> 
> holy shit fam so THANK YOU SO MUCH for coming along this journey with me, its been super cool being able to write this and see all your comments and kudos. thank you so so so much to everyone who has read even a word, it means so much to me!!!
> 
> i'm planning out a few more expensive headphones fics, likely not anything as big as this was, but i excited to keep on writing! 
> 
> thanks again guys, i love you all so much!! also, if anyone has any requests/prompts or anything, feel free to send them over my way!! you can comment them down below, but thank you so much again! its seriously been the COOLEST thing seeing expensive headphones get more and more popular, and im so happy to have been able to contribute even a little content into this ship
> 
> ok ill stop saying thank you after this but seriously; THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!


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